30 Times We Never Kissed
by Iori-chan-sempai
Summary: To say that it was love would be an understatement. Collection of Jin x Ragna oneshots. Now with CS spoilers! Be wary of incest, possibly graphic sex, and gratuitous flashbacks.
1. Culmination

It's unfair, Ragna realizes: the way Jin purrs sweetly into his neck, how he never moves too far or asks too much, only, "Nii-san, why not?" in an infuriatingly melancholic tone (and his breath is so, so warm). Jin's only and always daring Ragna to take those few steps into his arms and between his thighs, and Ragna knows the reason why. When the day is finally over, all Jin can be accused of tantalization, of putting the thought into his head and the guilt would be Ragna's alone.

"Nii-san," Jin moans, this time in pleasure, eyes lit up and wild as he grips to the lapels of that red coat, guiding Ragna down over him. What Ragna doesn't recognize is that Jin is aching for him to take it all, has been aching since the day he was born for Ragna take everything he could ever give and finally _see_ that it is not his fault, and that Jin has never once blamed him for it.

Ragna is thrusting in time with his heart beat now; he listens to Jin's breath-- harsh and heavy-- mind numbing from sheer sensation, and hopes for God to hear him out just once in his life and _let this all be a dream_. For the second time in his life, Ragna decides that He must not be listening, because the pulling heat around his cock feels far better than he could have ever imagined.

His eyes are clenched, hard, until Jin reaches up and touches his face, and says, with a firmness that contrasts perfectly with the fleeting touches of his gloved fingers upon Ragna's cheek bones, "Look," and Ragna is compelled to open them. Jin is laid out before him, on his back, flushed and trembling (because of _him_), and Ragna can see his skin now-- that perfect, scarred and beautiful white flesh that makes him bite back a moan when their eyes lock.

It's then that Jin pleads in the most commanding tone, "Kiss me, Nii-san."

Before Ragna can stop himself, he leans in, almost far enough to be completely lost to it, sin, lust, eternal damnation-- but after a moment that feels like so much longer, so close that Jin can almost _taste_ him, he pulls away. Instead of Jin's lips, Ragna presses his mouth against the crook of his neck, and Jin laughs.


	2. Defeat

What the fuck is _wrong_ with you, he wants to say, to himself and to Jin because blood runs thicker than water, than saliva and semen and for the love of God-- Jin happily reminds him that God doesn't care about them, because if He did, Saya would still be alive and she isn't, is she?-- this is a taboo that should never, ever be violated.

So he resists, tries hard (and it's terribly hard when Jin just _touches him_ in urgent, loving ways far too unwholesome to be considered brotherly even by the closest of siblings), but it's impossible. He never had a chance from the start, from that day when Mom smiled at him in post-natal bliss and introduced the warm, green-eyed bundle in her arms as his new little brother. It's not until 21 years later, as he lies under Jin, watching those lean, powerful muscles ripple beneath soft skin that he realizes his fate-- their fate, this affection, the terrible twisted thing that makes Jin into a murderer and a psychopath-- is completely inescapable.

But that doesn't stop him from trying.

"Don't," is the only word he finally whispers in rejection when Jin leans in to kiss him-- it would be the only and final act that would damn them to Hell without pardon, he tells himself, but Jin doesn't care, because Jin doesn't understand the gravity of what they're doing. He curses himself; he was the one who was supposed to save and protect his siblings, as he had promised to his mother all those years ago, but he's failed at it so much it's pathetic.

Yet when Jin's lips touch his own, that self-condemnation momentarily retreats to the back of his mind. Jin slowly deepens the kiss with a gentle, insistent pressure and all he can do in response is moan, the dam finally breaking and flooding him with sheer desire.

They'll sin so hard and dark that it will stay with him forever and become his mark of Cain, clear to anyone and everyone who dares to look him in the eyes. And when they do, he'll get on his knees and confess, honestly confess for the first time since he found out the truth, he'll break down and beg for absolution-- but never for himself. He is the sin, his brother is the sinner, so if either of them is beyond forgiveness, it's him, not Jin.

And then Jin moves, and suddenly, he can forget who they are, can forget where they are, splayed out on the wooden floor where so many people had been praying only hours before. They're defiling the sacred grounds of a church and it feels so damn wonderful to get lost in it, the pleasure-- not having to think, about Him, about morals. He can't hold his voice back anymore when Jin does _that_, and his moaning soon forms a word: his brother's name. He thinks that's what does it for Jin, what makes him lose that last bit of control.

Then the pace becomes just as frantic as his breath, until he's literally gasping for breath. He groans, nails scraping uselessly against the floor as his orgasm rips through him.

He opens his eyes before he realizes he had even lost consciousness, leaning against the pew he vaguely remembers making his bed late last night. He's fully dressed, and there is absolutely no sign of Jin. He swallows once, thickly, presses his fingers to his mouth, subconsciously searching for a trace of Jin's heat or taste, holding in his telltale disappointment.

Ragna's eyes water as he looks at the church's broken stain glass window and lets out-- so loudly that he hears his voice echo-- a single prayer.

God, please, he cries, rid me of these feelings.

He buries his face in his hands.

God doesn't listen.

He never has.


	3. Victory

"I won, Nii-san," Jin says, and his voice is but a whisper into Ragna's ear; Jin's breath is unnaturally cool on his flesh-- still flushed from the battle and the shame of defeat-- making him shiver from more than unease and less than fear. Jin's hands grip his wrists, firmly, bruising, as he presses their chests together, and Jin feels so hot against him that Ragna has to force himself to remember his younger brother's body is the last thing he should be getting excited about. "Do you know what it means?" Jin asks, eyelashes tickling Ragna's cheek with every blink; over the beating of their hearts in unison, Ragna almost doesn't hear the words.

It takes a moment before Ragna can collect himself and say, "You're going to kill me, now?" his voice softens, "Again?"

Jin stiffens for an instant, then draws back to look at him in the eyes, his lips slowly forming a smile. "No," he says, and it's a sigh, a little pleased thing that makes Ragna's skin break out in goosebumps once he feels Jin's leg slipping between his thighs and finally _knows_. "I can kill you all I want later, right? I think I want to bask in this glory for now, and really enjoy my prize." He pauses with a chuckle, leaning forward until their noses are almost touching, "You were always mine, Nii-san. Since the day I was born."

Ragna swallows, gathering his strength for a final attempt at resistance. "No," he says so quietly that Jin nearly misses it. "What the hell are you talking about?" he sneers, "Sorry, Jin-- I've never belonged to anyone, and I certainly don't now."

Using what he figures is probably the last of his strength, Ragna jerks his head forward as hard as he can. Jin foresees his actions-- not quickly enough-- and pulls back, sustaining a partial yet painful blow to his chin. It's not hard enough to stun him as Ragna had hoped to, but Jin's grip loosens as he reels; Ragna pulls his hands free, rolling his hips and throwing Jin off of him. Within moments he's on his stomach, lunging for his weapon; it isn't until his fingers curl around the handle of his sword that he turns his head to see Jin looming over him.

Those green eyes are wide, mad in every definition of the word, and the sight is nearly enough to make him regret his actions.

Before he can even fucking move, Jin finds the spot between his shoulder blades with his boot and immediately places all of his weight there. The crack Ragna swears he hears is merely a prelude to the unbelievable pain shoots down his back. Oh, God, is all he can think, and Jin spares a laugh before he stomps down on Ragna's right arm, forcing his hand to jerk open in reflex. Jin kicks away his sword the instant Ragna's hold is relinquished.

"Now, now," Jin chides playfully-- eyes still wild, a smile replacing the scowl. He steps off his red carpet and kicks Ragna onto his back, and the movement alone makes Ragna want to never move again; everything simply hurts and the fact is both reassuring and frightening to him-- he can feel, so he is definitely alive, but he can _feel_, and he won't be able to stop. "There's no need to be so rude to me," Jin tells him, kneeling down at his side. "After all," his fingertips brush Ragna's cheeks, "I love you, Nii-san," he says, his voice low and husky with confession, and presses their mouths together.

Ragna doesn't dare to move a muscle with this temptation in arm's reach, he doesn't trust himself-- Jin is just as beautiful as he could have ever imagined, and it's entirely satisfying on a terribly selfish, terribly _human_ level to know that he is loved, and completely-- even if it is a thoughtless, all-consuming love that refuses to take no for an answer, and Ragna can't say yes, can't ever say it, because Jin is still that guilty, avaricious, lovesick little boy who is undeniably his own flesh and blood.

"Nii-san," Jin murmurs against his lips, then imperatively: "Quit thinking."

Ragna tries, he honestly does his best to, shoves all notions from his head, because, hell, he knows better than anyone that Jin is so easily offended and emotionally volatile in this state-- Jin was the same way years ago, sneaking into his bed at thirteen to demand Ragna give him a 'grown up kiss.' This time, however, Jin is so much more impatient and less willing to use tears to get something that could simply be forced from him with enough--

Ragna is instantly whipped out of his reverie by the way Jin's eyes sharpen. He feels Jin's fingers tighten on his chin, but his honed instincts fail him; he doesn't even realize what Jin is doing until he's forcing his head backwards, and Ragna's head slams, hard, into the marble floor. Ragna's vision blurs from sheer pain as he gasps aloud, and Jin takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth-- his plan works brilliantly: suddenly, Ragna can't formulate a thought in his head.

Jin delves in insistently, so content exploring Ragna's mouth that he moans, sweetly, and the reverberation against his tongue makes Ragna just lose it-- his injuries are so agonizing that his mind doesn't try to dwell on them, not when there is something infinitely more pleasant to focus on. Ragna responds to that seeking kiss, and shit, he feels fucking terrible in more ways than one, feels just like he did back then with Jin's small, trembling body against him, whimpering just barely, "Nii-san." And no matter how softly it comes out, it is always a knife to the heart-- and Jin knows it is, he's so coy and clever how he hardly ever says anything but.

Jin relishes that he still has the capacity to wound him; between every kiss, Jin mumbles "Nii-san," until Ragna is so beaten and battered on every front that he can only twist his fingers into Jin's coat and press back against his lips fervently, thinking, _How is it that you can still taste like pure vanilla, after all the things you've done?_


	4. Consecrate and Deconstruct

It doesn't even fucking make sense anymore, how he dreads yet covets Jin's touch-- he doesn't dare moan, only breathes and wants, before he can't hold back and completely explodes into Jin's fist. And Jin smiles at him, eyes half-lidded and lusty as he presses their mouths and murmurs, "I never thought I'd see you look so cute, Nii-san."

The handcuffs are always too tight and Jin always bites too hard, and thrusts too fast, just to make Ragna's eyes tear up and him gasp in pain, "but it's not just pain, is it?" Jin says one day after so long that he doesn't have the energy to spit on his face like he did the first week-- all he can do is hang limply and heave in dirty, gritty breaths that never seem to give him air. Jin rubs him down lovingly with a washcloth everyday, makes him come and leaves marks from lips and teeth on his thighs as if they were his property.

"You're awake," Jin had said the first day, utter glee on his face, Ragna knows without knowing exactly who he is at once. "Jin?" he breathes out, but the moment the word leaves his mouth he thinks himself wrong; while he's every bit as beautiful physically, his expression is twisted with madness and other things Ragna can't name immediately, but then he says, "Nii-san," with something that is definitely more than brotherly affection and Ragna is forced to recognize all of them at once.

Jin describes how he had found Ragna in detail, that the moment Jin had heard his name again, he had started looking for any information about him, "And it finally paid off," because here he was. Jin grabs him by his chains and presses the chastest kiss they'll ever share to his fingers and says, "Nii-san, you're mine, okay?"-- says it every single day until Ragna stops saying "No," until he stops shaking his head and only closes his eyes and thinks, _I am so fucking pathetic._

By the fifth week, Ragna is certain that he has Stockholm syndrome because how else could he feel anything other than disgust towards Jin for lusting after his older brother since forever or towards his own body, trembling and shuddering with delight at this punishment-- it's like Jin says in week two (he knows because Jin announced the days to him back then), "All you have to do is accept me," and it will start to feel much, much better, and it does, and he can give in silently. Jin doesn't taunt him about him, only smiles knowingly, with approval, when Ragna's sharp grunts turn into shuddering gasps because he has finally come to terms with it and has thrown in the towel.

He's lost track of time by now-- honestly surprised that Jin hasn't gotten bored of him yet, and how they're both still alive and unfound in the middle of nowhere as Jin puts ceramic mugs full of cider and whiskey-- and sometimes poison-- against his lips and tells Ragna to drink and he does so everytime. He doesn't refuse the food or liquids anymore, because Jin's anger is so unpredictable and Ragna may even be starting to like the way things are right now, with Jin's tongue curling around his own. It makes no sense that Jin has taken everything he's every wanted again and again, yet can be so pleased with it, like he's found something new and wonderful every time.

As if he can sense those thoughts, Jin says, "Don't worry, I'll never get tired of you," and Ragna thinks it's funny, because he was sure just recently he would have been terrified to hear those words. But now--it instills something completely different than fear and revulsion: something so close to contentment that if he wasn't already certain of it, he would think himself insane.

But he is, he must be-- after all, he loves it when Jin smiles and laughs, and he finds it sweet how Jin whispers, "I love you, Nii-san," every morning in greeting and every night in farewell, and he needs to feel Jin close. He remembers wondering why Jin even bothers to dress him in the mornings because by the end of the day old scars are busted red and he's stripped completely naked. He asks so once, and when Jin answers with, "It would be bad if you caught a cold," Ragna laughs so hard that even Jin's eyes widen with surprise.

It feels like so long ago and yet just yesterday; he remembers the feel of Jin's backhands against his face, and holding back his pained voice, but today he screams in pleasure, opens his mouth, begs for everything he's never wanted. He tells Jin he loves him for the first time since they were children and Jin clings to him, says, "Me, too, Nii-san, I love you so much," until its all he can think about.

He waits.

Ten days pass and it feels like heaven, no pain or poison, and Jin even lets him sit down and feed himself, kisses him sweetly and it's like their honeymoon. The smile hardly ever fades from Jin's face now-- only when he looks at the chains on Ragna's wrists. He even says, "I'm sorry," and means it, so Ragna manages a smile and forgives him each time, although he knows that Jin never wants him to fly away again, wants to become his wings or tear them off entirely.

"It's been so long since I've seen the sky," Ragna says with a pitiful little chuckle, when Jin comes in on the eleventh day. "Is it still blue?"

Jin looks genuinely surprised to hear him talk without prompting and, after a moment, tells him, "Maybe if you're good, I'll take you to see it soon."

Ragna clutches onto that memory of the first few days, when he was himself and nothing like he was now, struggles to remember that anguish and wrath and rage and how he would never, ever for forgive Jin for what he had done. He forgets everything else, all of Jin's smiles and dreams and especially the touch of his fingers. He's no longer a child of the God he once knew-- he would rather deny His existence than to be damned by Him-- because he knows it for sure, even an endless life would not be able to atone for this period of sin. Instead, he recalls other theologies to comfort him, where there is no such thing as heaven or hell. He thinks of how souls are recycled and reincarnated, that they become cleansed, and are able, are _allowed _to forget their past lives.

"You have to promise," Jin says solemnly, two days later, suddenly not reaching for the chains that bind Ragna nightly,"that you won't leave me."

Ragna breathes his name, and finally leans forward of his own volition, finally kisses Jin, and somehow it's the most perfect moment in both their lives. Ragna pushes his hips against him and even though he said the words weeks ago, it only now feels like they're making love. Jin kisses the marks hidden by the handcuffs and Ragna enjoys the freedom of movement, rubs his hands over Jin's back and chest to trace the scars he has never been able to feel. "I won't," Ragna says, and he wraps his fingers around Jin's throat.

"This was just a dream," he says, many times, and he's not sure who he says it for, because it doesn't take very long for Jin to stop flailing. He peels his hands away once Jin is out cold and wishes just once he could be as unrelenting as his little brother and _not let go_.

"Where are we?" he had asked, one day (the fifth? the fiftieth?), and all Jin says is, "Home." As he climbs up the stairs he's heard Jin come down everyday for so long and Ragna thinks he's leaving a part of himself behind. He hopes it's the part of him that Jin has claimed, that has been been stained black with love, and all that is left is pure and that the past is gonegone--

But he gets to the ground floor and he _knows_ this room, six short pews and one stained glass window-- swallowing all feelings of deja vu, he swings the door open to that same rugged scenery of his youth.

Home.

Ragna isn't anything like Jin; his conscience even quiets the voice in his head that begs for him to burn it all down again.

The sun is so bright that it takes him half an hour before his sight is back to normal, and he never forgets those minutes, walking with his eyes closed astounded, overwhelmed that the landscape had not changed one bit-- but he has, they both have.

"Do you remember, Nii-san?" Jin says, far from now, bleeding out and making Ragna panic with terror because Jin was his _brother_ beyond and through everything. "You said you loved me."

Somehow it's an accusation, and Ragna knows he should lie, should lie and make Jin feel loved and perfect because he's dying in his arms and it's all his fault, all Jin's own fault, and--

"I did," Ragna says and it's the truth.

It's his funeral, but Jin laughs until his breath leaves him.

It's his victory, but Ragna cries when it finally does.


	5. Claimant

Ragna tastes like the color red, like passion and anger and blood all at once; it makes Jin shiver because it's exactly what he's wanted, everything he's been dreaming of and more: their mouths pressed together, harder with each searching kiss. Ragna doesn't respond with anything other than fierce glares and growls and Jin is absolutely fine with that for now, because he's finally made it and all he can think about is that perfect taste on the tip of his tongue.

He meets Ragna's glower with love when their lips part, admires the way Ragna's mouth tightens into a frown, a closed-mouthed grimace that is purely defiance and rejection-- something that makes Jin smile since here isn't anything like hate in his expression. Ragna could never hate his little brother, only love him with despairing intensity, and Jin understands this, Jin allows it because his knows his lovely, obstinate big brother better than anyone else. Ragna wants the best for him, feels as though everything is his fault-- and it is-- but doesn't dare do anything about it in a way that would make them both happy; the most obvious and easiest way, to admit to his own 'defeat' (victory) and let his little brother (and himself) have exactly what he wanted.

Jin's kisses are filled with a certain loving violence, one that jostles Ragna's injured shoulder needlessly, digs his fingers into the soft flesh under his chin and says, "I hate you, Nii-san," in more guilt-inducing ways than he ever managed in his childhood, because, honestly, he hates his brother as much as his loves him, and he loves him more than anything else he's set his sights on. Even miles away and years apart, Jin's eyes have never left him, but still Ragna refuses, Ragna ignores, Ragna pretends. Jin never has the gall to pretend that his brother loves him as much as the reverse, only accepts that Ragna does love him, only knows they are bonded in ways that he can never deny, only hopes that someday Ragna can see it all like he does and free himself from the burdens of morality.

If only he would recognize the truth, that they are only human and nothing divine should be expected from them. Why not relinquish such pitiful goals that were to forever be unattainable and instead, settle for something that was in view, in reach and ensured: himself. It honestly hurts him when he considers the reasons, when he thinks that maybe Ragna didn't want him at all, that he never wanted him, only used him for his own selfish means, to boost his ego and make himself feel needed.

He remembers Ragna's hypocrisy; how he would smile at him and pull him into his arms right after saying how Jin should act his own age and stop clinging to his older brother. He knows that Ragna saw it in his eyes back then (when Ragna had asked him why he never wanted to hang out with the kids at school and he looked up at him and said, "Because I love you the most, Nii-san," like it was the most obvious thing in the world) and knew that Jin loved him, loved him as wholly and deeply as he said he did-- He's sure it was that day, because Ragna responded with a look unlike any Jin had seen before and said in a careful, soft murmur, "Me, too." Not "I love you, too," like he had always said before.

Jin remembers smiling, remembers holding back the shock, shock that turns into tears after two weeks when he realizes that Ragna was avoiding the phrase (and only with him, he smiled and told Saya he loved her in those exact words all the time, so why wasn't he treated the same?). Jin had cried himself to sleep, sure that Ragna had only pretended to love him all this time, and now that Jin loved him back, was pulling the rug right out from under him-- withdrawing before things could get messy, because more than anything Ragna hated messes, and he was tornado of emotion.

It was days before he finally worked up the nerve to ask Ragna why the words had changed, because even if it didn't mean a thing to his brother, it made all the difference to him. Ragna gave him that pained little smile (fake fake fake, just like his words and promises and feelings) and said that he did love him and would always love him, so he didn't have to say it all the time-- and besides, wasn't Jin getting a little too old for verbal affirmations of affection?

"I hate you, Nii-san!" he had sobbed, again and again, tears pouring down in a sudden waterfall that shocked Ragna out of his self-righteous spiel, made him fall to his knees and say, "I'm sorry, Jin. Nii-san is an idiot, just---" He doesn't say anything more, only hugs him, and Jin's faith is restored _just like that_ because Ragna is holding him and it's everything he's ever wanted-- at least, that's what he thinks until the next day when Ragna puts him to bed.

Jin had felt such shame that he fervently apologizes to Ragna for the outburst, says, "I didn't mean any of it, at all, Nii-san," pauses, gazes at him with hope, and then says, "I love you."

Ragna swallows, then sighs-- he had been resigning to his fate, Jin recognizes it now in retrospect-- and says, "I love you, too, Jin. Now go to sleep!"

But Jin couldn't sleep that night. Inside himself he felt something growing, a want unlike anything else he has ever felt before and realized that until Ragna was entirely his, he would never be able to rest in peace-- Aaa, but now, certainly, beyond anything, Ragna is here and _his_.

It's so sweet when Ragna begins to concede-- just for now he's sure, but a simple crack in Ragna's resolve is all that it'll take to slowly tear it down. Ragna drops his guard, doesn't dare to move against him yet, although Jin can feel the shudder that goes through his brother's body when he licks and lightly bites at his bottom lip. Jin definitely notices the slight way Ragna's mouth opens a fraction, and slides his tongue in, tastes the heavenly mix of blood and surfacing lust that Jin knows is fighting inside of him.

He presses closer, hears-- feels-- the soft little sound in Ragna's throat that tells him how much he's enjoying this, and it drives him insane, more crazy than those years of thinking him dead, or months of knowing him alive without being about to see him. That tiny noise means Ragna wants this, wants him-- Jin swallows thickly when he feels one of Ragna's arms find its way around his waist. He murmurs, "Nii-san..." with a mix of surprise and arousal, and looks into Ragna's flushed face to see every emotion inside him at war on his face. He thinks, _it's okay, I've got you_ when the truth is, he's always had him.

Jin kisses Ragna with relish, hunger, and finds his gentle and reluctant response to be all too adorable, something that sends a red fire down his spine, spreads Ragna's legs to slip between them. He strips him to the waist, touches him (god, Ragna's skin is so hot even through his gloves) and he _shivers_ when Jin's fingers brush against his flesh. Ragna's heart races under his palm, and Jin can hardly move his eyes from the beautiful scars that seem to decorate, more than mar, his skin. Suddenly, he feels fingers on his cheek, and Ragna tilts Jin's head up, and their gazes meet.

_You don't have to say a word, I know, I know,_ thinks Jin as his breath catches; he leans forward, kisses Ragna, fucks him with a voracity that he knows won't be satisfied this time, because Ragna's hasn't given up completely. He's only allowed Jin to win this battle, and when the guilt and reason overtakes him, he will turn his back, and deny everything that happened, the same way he denied his feelings (their feelings) when they were young, because if there's anything inside Ragna that hasn't changed, it's that God-given stupidity.

But soon-- Jin can tell from his sweet gasps and moans, quiet but far more sincere than anything else that has come from his brother's mouth-- Ragna will no longer be able to refuse, or ignore, or pretend. The world that he's built up will crumble around him and Jin will be ready; he'll cradle him, lay him down on that red coat and take what he has always known (hoped, wished, prayed) was his all along.


	6. Holdings

Jin is at his knees, holding onto Yukianesa for balance as he catches his breath. The flesh wounds from their previous scuffle are still bleeding when Jin looks up at him with something that is neither hate or anger. It's something else, that startles Ragna immediately, because only a few weeks ago that same look had been scouring over his bare flesh, watching as he shamelessly moaned beneath him. Once Ragna remembers it, he can't strike it from his mind, can't pretend it never happened when suddenly all he can think about is the touch of Jin's fingers.

Jin can smell blood; he knows exactly when he's weak, and that's why he says it now: "Why is it that my love is wrong, Nii-san?" Ragna doesn't know how to answer-- doesn't know how to explain that true love is different from what is between them, that this kind of love breeds evil; he can't, not when his own will is crumbling, has been crumbling over the course of these last twenty days because he knows that Jin loves him with no ill intentions, only intensity. After succumbing to Jin's lips, he can't deny or ignore those feelings when Jin hounds him even in his dreams. Ragna says nothing-- how could he say anything?

"Unless," Jin looks at him and says it slowly, as though with difficulty, "Nii-san doesn't love me back?" Ragna feels his heart wrenching in ways he knows would never happen if he had admitted the truth. His love is just as deep and tainted as his brother's; he recognizes it now, how, as a teenager, he had derived some sort of sick pleasure from Jin's affections, and had felt more than flattered or embarrassed with every confession. Jin had won him, had broken him down in the same way that Ragna figures he had done to Jin secretly on purpose: until you couldn't think of anything but them and those words replayed in your mind until--

"Is your silence an agreement?" Jin laughs darkly, softly, "I should have realized it long ago," Jin says, and all it takes is that faintest hint of tears in his eyes, to make Ragna break and reach forward, thinking _shit, Jin, you crafty little bastard_, as he presses their lips together. Jin moans with surprise and kisses back with fervor, his arms winding around his shoulders almost instantly. Ragna can't help but notice how fast Jin submits to him, something he had expected impossible from his displays of forcefulness.

Nevertheless, Jin lets him control, lets him taste completely and gently, of his own free will, until their kisses gradually grow ripe with urgency and begin to turn violent. Their teeth clack and before long, Jin is right there in Ragna's lap, fingers caught in his coat, but still not close enough. Ragna doesn't have time to breathe when they part; Jin's lips and teeth find his pulse and one of his hands-- _yes_-- palms Ragna's erection through the cloth of his pants. When Ragna lets that shuddering gasp go, Jin pulls back, looks at him beneath his lashes and _doesn't say a word_, just the way Ragna needs it.

He swallows, drags Jin forward again, smirking at the soft hiss when his fingers brush Jin's stomach, missing his cock by mere centimeters when he hooks the underside of his belt. Ragna touches their lips together as he bucks slightly into Jin's hand. Jin deepens the kiss, inviting Ragna to do the same, rather than taking control. He responds, slides his tongue against Jin's, tilting his head a bit, and the way his brother melts against him feels so right. When Jin moans softly into the kiss before reluctantly pulling back, Ragna realizes this (sinfulburningincestuous_lust_) isn't morally sound, sane, or pure, but is something completely terrible and perfect between them.

Before he knows it, Jin's hands are at his waistband, pulling down his pants and boxers in one movement. Ragna stifles a groan when Jin wraps his hand around his erection, then leans down to lick at it, but he can't hold back a moan when Jin takes it all in and begins to suck. He can't even think with that wet heat around him, and only manages to barely resist the inclination to grab Jin by the hair and relentlessly thrust into his mouth-- especially since the look Jin gives is begging that he do just that. Ragna puts his hand on Jin's shoulder to make him stop before he loses himself right there, and watches with bated breath as the head of his cock slips from between Jin's wet lips.

Jin draws back, undoing the belt of his uniform to let it hang at his sides. Ragna hardly even takes the time to look before he raises himself on his knees and drags Jin to the floor, hooking his fingers in some slit that he had made nearly an hour ago in that skintight suit. He rips it open downwards, spreads it until Jin's chest, stomach, and lower half are appropriately exposed. The moment he takes to enjoy that contrast between that pale skin and black is cut short when Jin bends his knees and spreads his legs in a silent plea.

Ragna holds his breath to steady himself when he enters, as gently as he can because he understands it now, how Jin wants this more than anything, how Ragna could practically rape him and he wouldn't wear an expression of anything but pleasure. "Nii-san..!" Jin gasps, and that's the final word that breaks the spell-- Ragna knows this is so fucking wrong, so good, so perfect and-- he thrusts into that heat, hotter than any lake of fire, and Jin whimpers-- arches against him-- "_Nii-san_."-- his legs fold around his waist, pulling him in even-- Shit, it's not fair how Jin makes him feel like this, blessed and damned at the same time, like heaven and hell have fused in order to give him the most torturous paradise possible.

Jin's hands touch at his shoulders, before dipping lower to pull apart his clothing until they reach his skin. His fingers rub against Ragna's stomach in tickling ways that make him burn even deeper with fire; he growls, can't stand those lingering touches any more than the suppliant looks or the soft moans on his brother's lips, so he grabs Jin by the wrists and pins his arms to the floor, seals Jin's mouth with his own and shuts his eyes.

Jin rocks against him when Ragna pushes into his body with such furry that, if this were anyone else, he'd be worried about breaking them-- but this is Jin, and if nothing else, Jin lives for whatever he dishes out, be it pleasure or pain. Jin bucks hard against him, needs, gets, has everything Ragna can deliver, and groans "Nii-san," in a way so inherently sexual that Ragna knows he won't ever be able to take the word innocently again.

"Fuck, Jin..." he whispers when their eyes meet, and pure ecstasy is there in his glowing eyes, flushed cheeks and red lips. He releases Jin's wrists, feels Jin wrap his arms around his neck and tug him close for a kiss, one that's shortened by a change in position that makes Jin throw his head back in surprise and wonder.

Ragna doesn't know how long they spend writhing against each other-- it feels far too long but not long enough before Jin is trembling with every move and his own mind is blank of anything but sheer human instinct. Jin literally sobs his release against his neck, and orgasm crashes down on Ragna with spine tingling fury at the sound of his brother crying out, "R-ragna!"

It's all silence filled with heaving gasps and heart beats, until Ragna breathes, "God," in aftermath, but he's stopped thinking about God and wonders instead if Saya will ever be able to forgive them.


	7. Gifts

"Happy birthday, Jin-nii-chan," Saya says softly, and smiles, pushing her foil-wrapped present towards the birthday boy. Jin thanks her with a smile just as wide before he begins to open it carefully.

To be honest, Ragna is surprised and proud at how, well, _nice_ his siblings manage to be to each other sometimes. Jin and Saya disagree on nearly everything and get mad at each other so much that it impresses him how they can put it out of their minds so easily. Saya certainly never lets her gender, age, or physical condition get in the way of their fights, and neither does Jin, something Ragna thinks Saya solemnly appreciates. Either way, no matter their current feud, all it takes is a birthday or a holiday to bring them back together-- and never grudgingly; they seem to be kind and caring from the bottoms of their hearts. But, he supposes, that is the magic of youth.

When Jin pulls away the foil to reveal a dark blue biking helmet, an expression of glee and excitement comes over his face. Saya giggles and explains, "It's so Nii-sama can't get mad when you borrow his bike."

Ragna flushes. Although he never mentioned it to Jin, Saya must have really been listening when he told her that one of his main gripes with Jin riding on his dirt bike was that he didn't wear a helmet. Ragna would have let him use his, but he didn't wear one either-- however he was more experienced and older than Jin so he didn't worry about his own injury nearly as much as Jin's.

"But still," he gives Jin a stern look, "ask me first. I might have to do something to do that day." Jin had also gotten chewed out for making Ragna very late to work on more than one occasion.

Jin thanks Saya again and pushes the box to the side, looking expectantly at his older brother.

Ragna heaves a little sigh and slides an envelope to Jin. "Sorry, Jin," he says sheepishly, "This is all I have for now. My job ended up being extended so I don't get paid until next Tuesday." Ragna knows that Jin looked forward to his brother's present more than anything else, so it makes him feel terrible to not be able to give him anything tangible. All he has is the few dollars left over from his purchase of the cake, and having to give Jin such a bland, impersonal gift really bothers him. "My present will end up being a little late," Ragna says, and only looks into Jin's face when he's finished. Instead of Jin being heartbroken, like he always is when Ragna delivers bad news, he is looking curiously at Saya, who is holding back laughter.

"That sounds just like you, Nii-sama!" she says with a giggle, "Always putting things off until the last minute. I'll have you know that I bought Jin-nii-chan's present two whole weeks ago," Saya is definitely bragging, but Jin begins to laugh with her; Ragna is sincerely grateful-- he really hates seeing either of his siblings down.

"Alright, you critics, " Ragna says, growing a bit red again, "let's have some cake!"

After they finish eating-- during which Saya and Jin seem to be whispering conspiratorially-- Ragna cleans up and is approached by Jin outside.

"Nii-san. I was wondering if I could go into town," his voice is tiny, as if he expected Ragna to say no, but strengthens when he adds, "Saya said that this would be a good way to get me to forgive you."

Ragna frowns at that strategically placed guilt trip and (instead of saying no right off the bat) asks, "Right now? It's already dark out. You don't want to go tomorrow?"

Jin shakes his head slowly as he looks to his shoes. "I, was hoping..."

Ragna sighs and says, "Alright. I'll take you--"

"No!" Jin says, and Ragna looks at him in shock at the sheer force of his refusal. Jin blushes in embarrassment. "I mean. I really want to go by myself. It'll only take a couple hours. I'll be really careful! And I have a helmet now so you don't have to worry," he says with a reassuring smile.

Ragna steps back to look at him. Somehow he's giving in due to that eager and begging light in his eyes. "Don't lie. I won't get mad. How many times have you ridden at night?"

Jin's eyes widen and he swallows, "Uh, five or, five or six. Maybe seven."

Ragna holds Jin's gaze for a near minute before he concedes. "Alright. Alright. Go. Don't rush back, just be careful."

Jin face breaks into a grins and lunges forward to hug Ragna around the waist tightly. "Thanks, Nii-san! Don't worry, I'll be fine!!"

Ragna watches him get ready, Saya helps clip on his new helmet and he goes off on the dirt bike. Jin, he realizes from the quickly disappearing silhouette, is actually a damn good rider for being only twelve-- well, thirteen now-- which makes Ragna wonder how many times he's snuck out.

It only takes about ten minutes to get to town when you go at a good speed, it takes close to an hour walking. The church is definitely in the middle of nowhere, probably nothing more than a place for travelers to spend the night. Ragna's only seen about thirty people stay for more than a prayer or directions in their years here, so that old lady (who's already gone to sleep by now, but a piece of cake with her name on it is still in the fridge) must have been lonely before they arrived. Saya sits on the bench next to him, braiding her hair and distracting him with conversation for hours.

By the time she falls asleep on his leg, it's very late, halfway to the fourth hour when Jin had said 'a couple.' What the hell did a couple mean anyway? Two?! Or was it three or four? And that was before Ragna told him to take it slow... ugh!

Ragna worries the way that Jin had purposely avoided by sneaking out. Now that Ragna knows where Jin is and what he's doing, he's nearly driven crazy imagining what the hell could be making him this late. He didn't have an accident, did he? Or get held up in town-- mugged or beaten up...

Ragna bites his lip. He should have just freaking gone with him or followed him or something. Saya snores away on his lap, and, trying to clear his mind of worry, decides he might as well put her to bed. She had wanted to stay up until Jin got back, but she's obviously tired and Ragna doesn't want to wake her up. It had started to get a little cooler outside so he figures it's best if she go inside. He lifts her slowly-- she groans a little and moves in her sleep, putting her arms around Ragna's neck before falling back into a doze. He carries her to her room and tucks her in. Once there, he looks at the time, nearly midnight. He returns to his outdoor vigil, resolving that if Jin isn't back in 20 minutes, he'd go look for him. Luckily the moon is full so the path wouldn't be that troublesome to walk.

He sits on the bench outside and tries best not to bite his nails, a nervous habit that he had nearly gotten rid of until now. Fifteen minutes pass and Ragna stands to get his coat when he hears the engine of his dirt bike and sees its single headlight in the distance. Relief washes over him, taking away all the anxiety; he lets go of that breath he had been holding.

Jin comes slowly to the house and he gets off the bike, looking rather apologetic as he removes his helmet and approaches his brother. "N-nii-san," he says carefully, most certainly seeing the way Ragna's relief begins to turn to anger. "Sorry! I got really held up at the store! They were out and I had to request a whole new order s-so... It ended up taking a lot longer than I expected."

Ragna raises his eyebrow, "What are you talking about?"

Jin walks to his brother, says, "I'm sorry, Nii-san. Because I was late, it's already the 15th. But..." He holds out a small box that Ragna curiously takes. He opens it to reveal several small heart shaped chocolates, and Jin tells him "Happy Valentine's day."

Ragna blinks, almost all emotions except confusion melting away. He laughs awkwardly and says, "Thanks a lot, Jin." Jin gestures for him to try one and he does-- it tastes amazing, melts in his mouth instantly. "This must have been really expensive," he realizes aloud from its high quality flavor. "Is this another tactic to make me feel guilty about your late present?"

Jin laughs at that and says, "No, Nii-san. I've been saving up for a while, but I was still short. The money was actually very helpful." Ragna swallows, and there's a new feeling in his gut in light of this new information that Jin had been _planning_ this for months.

He ignores it, and chuckles back, "I suppose you figure that riding off in my bike and making me worry over your for four hours was good enough then?"

Jin blinks and is quiet for a moment, then says, "I don't know. There is one more thing, before I forgive you." He talks softly like it's a secret, and gestures Ragna to come closer. When Ragna sighs and leans over, Jin gives him a soft little peck on the lips that completely startles him. Jin pulls back and says, looking up at him sternly, "And you can't share the chocolate with anyone. If you give them to anyone else, then all my money was for nothing." Ragna nods slowly and his grip tightens on the box of chocolates as Jin hugs him again, tenderly.

When he says, "I love you, Nii-san," Ragna finally understands how much.


	8. Malcontent

He thinks he probably loved her, when they were young, maybe more than he had loved Ragna at the time, back before Saya had suddenly lost her strength, and shown to him that life was short, and people could be transient. This was utterly distressing to Jin, but luckily Ragna had been there, brave and strong enough for all of them. He loved them and cared for them so much, renewed Jin's faith in the world, in everything, so it was really no surprise that Jin turned all that he had to offer towards his older brother.

Ragna, he knew, would never disappear into the void, would never slowly fade and dwindle from existence like his little sister was doing. Ragna was always so full of guilt and responsibility-- the mere fact that he had persevered over five years of raising his younger siblings meant that he would not let himself. Ragna was something solid and corporeal in a wispy, uncertain world, and Jin loved that, loved that he would never leave him.

Until he did.

Jin probably even loved Saya when he hated her, when she coughed blood and made Ragna panic and afraid, turned him tired and careless. Ragna was so pure and wonderful, so the only explanation was that Saya had begun to infect Ragna with her illness, had been making him weak and pitiable like herself. Jin couldn't have that, didn't deserve that. He needed ground. He needed something stable to support him, to hold on to for balance, because--

Even as he fumed and burned and turned everything to ashes around him-- his past, his sister, his whole life-- he couldn't let go of his older brother. Even though it was Ragna's fault for leaving him; didn't he know that _Jin _was the one who got scared easily? That even as the fires around her grew, Saya had not screamed, only accepted her death with a smile? Ragna couldn't see that solemn part of her, he only saw her sickness, her supposed need for protection-- but she wasn't the one that truly needed him; Saya was already half-dead and knew it, it was Jin who couldn't stop crying, who needed a grip on Ragna's sleeve to lead him through the darkness.

And yet, Ragna had abandoned him.

Jin hated his brother when he pressed those patronizing kisses to his forehead at night, eager to get Jin out of his hair whenever Saya's condition worsened. It wasn't fair, wasn't right because, by then, Jin had _loved_ him, and that was why, even when he knew it was all Ragna's fault, Jin did his best to despise his sister for it. He had used to feel so conflicted and guilty-- but now Saya was dead and that made him have no remorse, and her no defense, when it came to blaming her.

As he watched Ragna grit his teeth against pain and anguish, glaring at him with rage, Jin tried to hate him less (instead he only loved him more). God, he didn't know the convention behind it, what kept him grinning, even as he shivered with fear and anger and sorrow. When he had thrust the sword forward, he been had begging for his brother to live beyond anything else-- because Ragna had to be punished for crimes and if he lived, he would be completely absolved. Jin would be able to find his hand again and take shelter in his powerful shadow once more. He was sure his lips had been moving with that secret prayer.

Sometimes, miracles happen.

But maybe Ragna did die. He goes on thinking that for years, because his memory had unfairly dimmed, and he doesn't even remember the sword going into his brother's chest (even though he is sure it does). If anything, Ragna couldn't die before he did. After all, wasn't that what being an older brother was all about?

And if his brother was dead, Jin would finally understand why he no longer felt alive.


	9. Self Incrimination

There is something inside of Ragna that is so dark and dreary that he does not want his siblings to ever see it or even know that it exists; the one that shivers everytime Jin hugs him around the waist and thinks, _oh, Jin, you don't know what you're getting youself into_. Jin can't, not when he's sending Ragna those coy looks, begging for his presence, his touch. Jin is such a pure, stupid boy; he could never have known better, could never understand those things going on inside Ragna, that they're tearing him slowly asunder.

It's made even worse because Ragna loves him--he realizes that it's in some different, separate way that he could never love Saya (and that made Jin special; Jin would be so pleased at that). It was a love that spanned over morals and virtue and only relied upon something beyond human nature, something beneath it; a purely animal instinct that refused to consider such things as what was right or wrong-- but this certainly was wrong, he didn't need any book to tell him that.

Despite how difficult and seemingly beyond his age Jin is, he's only _twelve _years old (Ragna ignores that voice saying how, by that age he was already an adult) and Ragna is not going to be the one to make him suffer. He won't, can't listen to the terrible urge to push Jin down, that deep desire (need) to press inside that soft, tight, perfect heat--and even though he tries not to imagine Jin's screams (he knows it would hurt him, that no matter how much Jin proclaimed he wanted it, he would not be prepared for it), it never works; he sees the tears in Jin's eyes and the thought gets him even more aroused than nauseous.

He grits his teeth as his mind strays; he thinks of his dreams, dreams of ripping Jin apart, of animalistic desire overtaking him and love, dark deep love that taints his brother every time he looks at him (it's so unfair, why couldn't he control himself, or just, forget?). They taunt him, implying the worst about his subconscious, that no matter how much he pretends, it will never go away. And it will gnaw slowly on the recesses of his mind, until the wires fray and he finally breaks. But he won't break, he can't, because before a man and a monster, he is a brother, a parent, a guardian!

"Nii-san?" Jin says softly, but Ragna doesn't register his presence until he reaches out to touch the back of Ragna's hand; the second he does, Ragna pulls away as if it was in pain and looks at Jin, nothing but frustration on his face. To have the subject of his own torment standing before him and looking so goddamn, vulnerable-- Jin visibly crumbles, repelled by Ragna's sudden hostility; he pulls back, whimpering, "I-I'm sorry."

Ragna snaps out of it, dives to his knees and grabs Jin by the shoulders. "No, no, Jin, I'm not mad at you," he says, foolishly touching him when he's like this. He can feel the smoothness of Jin's skin beneath the cloth of his shirt as he takes in every lovely flaw of Jin's face with a wanton eye. Jin looks up at him, pouting just barely, as though an unrelated reflex; his eyes are soft, like he doesn't believe what Ragna's saying. Just as Jin opens his mouth to apologize, again, that growing black spot grinds against Ragna's restraint, begs to touch him, until he--

He dips in, kisses Jin's lips; all he can focus on is the taste even as he curses himself, he couldn't break now, couldn't give in-- it's just a peck, but his lips are so, so soft and Ragna longs for something thicker, more tangible. "I wasn't mad," he whispers breathlessly, trying to grab the reigns on his thinking, but he's possessed; his head spins and Jin blinks, cheeks flushing (he's fucking beautiful and it hurts to realize it, that he's half-hard because of his younger brother).

He can't resist that second impulse when Jin shyly gazes at him from behind his long lashes. "I love you, Nii-san," he says, even though Ragna knows it (and he knows how awful it is, what he wants to do, what he's about to do, and shouldn't even be _thinking_ about doing it at all), and he leans over, wraps his arms around him. "Nii-san," Jin says in surprise, his hands instantly flying up to press at Ragna's back, utterly willing to do whatever his older brother wanted. It hurts a little, but wonderfully, to know that Jin would obey him, even when he was this far gone.

It's too easy to give in; Ragna kisses him again, deeper, makes Jin give this surprised moan as Ragna bites at his lip.

It's the greatest guilty pleasure to have that small, frail frame pressed against his own; he's so fucking breakable, it would be so easy to do anything, hold him down and-- Jin gasps when Ragna's fingers dig into his waist, but he doesn't seem distressed, instead he locks their gazes and breathes in shakily, leaning into Ragna's careful touches and begging silently, _physically_. Ragna growls lowly, thinking briefly, _Shit, Jin. What are you doing? You shouldn't want this_, neither of them should, but--

"Nii-san," Jin whimpers, and his eyes insist that he knows, he's as much as an adult as he'll ever be and that he's aware of exactly what is going to happen. "Please."

Ragna can't think, can only hear that part of himself sigh in victory, as he takes in a shuddering breath and the protests of God and human decency and brotherly inhibitions fall on deaf ears. "I love you, Jin," he murmurs softly and Jin's body trembles. He tastes that sweet, forbidden paradise, absolutely sure that Jin hasn't kissed anyone else in his life, and that's the part that feels so right-- Jin is his (younger brother, who he should be protecting, especially from _this_, that foolish part of him demands), therefore he's entitled to this. Right now, the thought of Jin wearing that expression for anyone else is even more unbearable than the weight of sin.

Jin's breath is so heavy and quick, and he flinches lightly when Ragna's fingers climb up his shirt (Jin's skin is soft and warm and _hot_). He touches Ragna's chest and returns his kisses with a clumsy enthusiasm, but Ragna understands-- he'll teach him everything, the way he should have from the beginning. That fiery lust runs through his veins when Jin moves into him, mumbles, "F-feels good," against a kiss and it blurs everything until all Ragna knows is pleasure and dominion.

It isn't until Jin's hands are at his shoulders and the sheets are pooled at his knees that Ragna swallows, remembers the gravity, that they're brothers, and that Jin trusts him, adores him.

And that his feelings are nothing more than trust and adoration; that all he feels for Jin is possession, nothing more than a lustful want, and selfish desire to be Jin's first everything. He retreats instantly-- _Oh God, God, I'm a monster_-- pulls back, and does his best to ignore that confusion and hurt in Jin's voice when he says, "Nii-san..? What's wrong?"

Ragna swallows, hard, three times before he can speak, before he can even turn to look at Jin, "This never happened. You hear me, Jin? _Never_." Jin blinks, and tears immediately start to fall, but when he sees the seriousness on his brother's face, he nods.

Ragna knows he should do something and comfort him, but he doesn't know what will happen if he touches him now, when everything is still fresh in his mind.

He runs, doesn't come back until the morning, about the time that Jin and Saya are getting ready for school and the old lady (still oblivious as to what kind of thing she has let live in this house of God) is out doing her daily errands. But Jin isn't inside like Ragna had hoped, instead he sits demurely on the bench out front. His face lights up once he catches sight of him, and Ragna crushes every feeling spurred by it, until nothing exists but that proper, brotherly appreciation and embarrassment (and guilt, not a thing he tries can minimize that guilt) as Jin rises to meet him.

Ragna finally leans down and hugs him, now that he's sure he's in control, now that he's promised himself to never give in to that devilish impulse again. He can't speak at first, a full minute passes before he whispers, "Oh God, Jin. I'm sorry about..." he can't even choke out the words, only shakes his head. His arms tighten around Jin, and says, "It's all my fault."

Jin doesn't hug him back, only finds the tails of his jacket and clenches them hard; he laughs, a light, airy laugh that has no substance at all.

"You're so silly, Nii-san. What are you talking about?"


	10. Possibility

It makes no sense why he thinks of this now of all times, Jin's short arms tight around his waist, eyes wide and happy. God, back then it had always been easy to make him smile. Ragna had known the right things to say-- there weren't many wrong ones, because Jin (as the old lady so loved to point out) was determined to be the center of his attention.

"I love you, Nii-san!" Jin chirped as he pressed his face into Ragna's stomach, making him feel slightly embarrassed (the way he did whenever one of his siblings told him such). After their parents died, Ragna had been ready to provide for and protect them, but it had taken a while to get used to more motherly tasks. At first, he had hoped coming to the live at the church would help to relieve him of those duties, but it only did so much.

Saya had been taken with the elderly woman at once (since Ragna could only do so much to understand her as a female) but she still wanted Ragna to brush out her hair, read to her, and tuck her in. Jin, on the other hand, continued to seek him out if he was hurt or in trouble, even more so than he did in the past. Although it felt a little awkward now that they were getting older, he was honestly thankful for his little brother's attention. It made Ragna feel like he was doing alright as a surrogate parent, even if he wasn't able to be around as much. He smiled lightly and patted Jin's head, "I love you, too, Jin."

"Ragna..." Jin spoke after a moment, head still against resting against him. Ragna looked down at him questioningly-- it was unusual for the boy to ever use his given name-- and Jin met his gaze, eyes suddenly growing red and glistening with unshed tears. His fingers curled into the back of Ragna's shirt, "Do you really? More than Saya?" he asked in a small voice.

Ragna tried not to show his surprise at the question and immediately dropped to Jin's level on a knee, grabbing him by the shoulders firmly.

"Jin," he said softly, inwardly wondering what would make him ask such a thing. Saya was a sickly girl, so he supposed that Jin sometimes felt as though he cared about their sister more than him. While Ragna thought Jin was being silly, he answered seriously, trying his best not to hurt Jin or Saya's feelings. "I could never love her more than you. Both of you are my younger siblings and I would do anything to protect you two, okay?"

Jin had nodded and wiped his eyes. Ragna thought that would be the end.

Now that he sees it again, he realizes that Jin had not gained any happiness in that answer, only a reluctant acceptance that would last for a few years. He should have seen that Jin wanted more than to be assured that his brother loved them equally, he instead wanted to monopolize him completely, be loved and more important than Saya was and would have done anything in order to be.

Once he thinks that, the vexing, clawing sensation in his chest returns; it always does once he considers if Jin had been right years ago and that everything is his fault after all.

"Nii-san," Jin says, but his voice is no longer innocent; it's airy, teasing, yet as sharp as the blade in his hand. He had seen the pictures in the paper, hadn't dared believe them, that Jin Kisaragi was his Jin, that the bright boy who had always hid behind him had killed so many people and done so much _wrong_.

But now, with Jin standing before him-- sword drawn, a twisted grin on his face-- Ragna can see it, how the tone is all wrong but it's the same voice; that while that expression is nothing but an imitation, it's his face.

More than anything, Ragna can't believe it.

"Jin," he says, and all that works its way into his voice is anger. He's shocked, disappointed (relieved?), frustrated and God, yes, he's angry.

"It's been such a long time," Jin sighs, and the subdued smile on his face never reaches his eyes (the only common attribute they share is the glint of madness Ragna abhors and is thankful for nonetheless, because it's so reassuring to think that Jin isn't in his right mind, that just maybe he could be saved or reverted). He laughs, loud and hard as he raises his blade, "Nii-san. Stay dead this time, okay?"

Ragna swallows, braces himself and does his best to forget about their bonds and their past for the length of their battle. He shouldn't blame himself for everything, not with Jin charging at him with no holds barred. He can't let himself die here, even if it was something that Jin wanted, or said he wanted-- because the same way he saw the tears in his eyes when he had stabbed square in the chest at fourteen, Ragna knows (and can't allow himself to have any doubt at all in his mind) that Jin doesn't want him dead. He wants to returns to their past, their childhood days the same way Ragna does.

But Ragna can't dwell on it, can't give Jin that brotherly mercy, because even if he didn't mean it (even if _he _didn't mean it), Saya was gone, and Jin was the one responsible for it. No one else knew about them, about the fire, so Ragna was the only person who could make it right, who could judge and punish Jin at all. So he fights and fights hard, tries not to flinch whenever he sees the red of Jin's blood, and resists that urge to make sure he's alright when he sends him the floor. Ragna is here for answers, to have Jin's side of the story, and then maybe be able to put everything to rest, finally.

He stands, stern and tall, eyebrows knitted with restraint, with anger, and not a single crack in his resolve, because if he cracks, he'll shatter.

"You want answers, Nii-san?" Jin adjusts his grip on his sword in an instant and drives the hilt into Ragna's gut. "You want to know why I did it?" he says, his chest heaving-- Ragna hits the ground with the wind already knocked out of him, his sword falling from his hand at his side; he can hardly move before Jin lunges after him.

Within a moment, Jin is staring into his eyes directly, too closely, straddling his hips and pressing down on his sternum with one hand. His other hand gripped his sword, with its icy blade pressed against Ragna's neck-- already cutting through the skin (Ragna can feel that thin line of chilled blood climbing down his throat) and daring him to make a quick move.

The lightness of Jin's voice doesn't match the firm violence of his actions. "I did it because of you," he whispers before the pressure on Ragna's chest disappears. Jin lifts his hand, sweeps his fingers over Ragna's jaw, says, "Because I loved you, Nii-san," and it's the worst feeling (Ragna's throat tightens, jaw sets) to hear it again-- that what happened could in any way be traced back to something he did, that the one who had ruined their past life might have been him.

Even if Jin is lying (but Ragna can see every individual eyelash on his face from this distance and he would be able to _tell_), the notion has been in his head for years and is the one thing that-- he grimaces, ignores the way Jin's fingertips brush against his skin-- would start to break him. Jin laughs softly, says in the most honest voice, "That's why I'll kill you again, Nii-san. Because I still love you."

The hand suddenly returns to his chest, slamming him against the floor again, and Jin moves fast, so quickly that Ragna thinks that this is it. Because he had been stupid and couldn't let the past go, Jin will kill him right here.

But he's wrong because, instead of slashing his throat, Jin kisses him-- hard and intense like he wants to breathe in Ragna's very life.

Ragna freezes in shock before he tries to move away, bringing his arms up to push at Jin's shoulders and make him stop-- but he doesn't get very far. Jin presses his blade down harder, quickly halting Ragna's attempts at resistance. Ragna swallows, and the movement slices open a few more layers of skin on his throat.

Did it really stem from that day? Maybe-- if he could just, somehow, change that one moment in his life-- if he could be not so disturbed by the idea of the love shining his brother's eyes, not so naive to believe it was going to go away if he never acknowledged it, not so unperceptive to never notice it until it was too late...

Maybe he will, maybe he does in another world. Maybe when Jin asks, he'll say something better, something like: "Jin, aren't you older than Saya? You're eleven, aren't you? Well... I've had eleven years to, well, love you, and it accumulates. Saya's only had nine."

Jin wouldn't understand at first, would blink and ask, "What about when Saya is eleven?"

Then he'd have to laugh and explain, "When she's eleven, you'll be thirteen."

And maybe that would be enough for Jin, maybe he would be able to find solace in that answer. Saya was a smart girl and she would understand, but if she ever got insecure he would explain that while he may love Jin more, he liked him less than her, and the two could fight over which was more important.

And maybe, just maybe, Saya wouldn't have to burn.

Jin licks at Ragna's teeth, and Ragna lets out a tiny sigh before he opens his mouth to complete the kiss. He tries not to shudder from the warm heat that slides in against his tongue; Jin kisses passionately, deeply, with all the weight of his feelings when Ragna responds in kind.

Right there, when Jin moans-- his hand loosens its grip on his sword, and he closes his eyes-- Ragna grabs the blade with his left hand, shielding his neck, and forcing Jin off of him onto his back. By the time Jin has risen to his feet, Ragna has retrieved his own sword. He touches gingerly at the shallow slashes on his neck to make sure the bleeding stopped as Jin stares him down.

Jin doesn't even try to grin, only looks at him with dismay. "What a dirty trick, Nii-san," he says, and if Ragna didn't know better-- that this was as much as a psychological attack as earlier-- he would have thought Jin looked betrayed.

He doesn't respond, only grips his weapon harder and engages him.

The metallic scrapes and clangs echo throughout the room. Jin is shaken after the exchange, rattled enough to make Ragna think that it hadn't been an act at all-- and then quickly ignore the thought, because, even distracted, Jin is a formidable opponent.

Still, he presses on-- Jin's reaction speed slows with the more ice he calls forth, until Ragna slides under one of his slashes and catches him right in the stomach. He's panting heavily when Jin hits the floor and holds his stance, prepared for a flurry of retaliation when-- Jin doesn't get up.

That irrational fear grips him when the blood from Jin's wounds start to pool underneath him. He hadn't-- hit him hard enough to kill him, but he still worries because Jin... is his brother. But because he is also his enemy, Ragna can't dive to the ground beside him in a show of weakness and the paranoia of killing both of his siblings. So he walks, briskly, to Jin's side, notes how he's still breathing, slowly, eyes closed, and he thinks he must be unconscious.

He thanks God for the first time since his childhood, clambers unsteadily to his knees and checks Jin's pulse. It's steady and strong, and his breath isn't shallow at all. Ragna lets out that sigh of relief he had been holding in, lets the tears prickle in his eyes because he has so much emotion in him that he doesn't know which one he'd be crying for. He's still pissed, he's frustrated because he knows all the answers he'll receive won't make sense to him, but he needs to hear them anyway. Yet there was that conflicting joy, that relief that his brother is here, is still alive, and that conjoined sorrow that Saya is gone, that she'll never come back.

He touches the open slash on Jin's stomach, noting the deeper red of the blood. Fearing that maybe he had hit an old wound, he gives in to his instinct, draws his blade to cut free one of Jin's superfluous sleeves which was already hanging by a thread. Through a little maneuvering, he manages to tie it firmly around Jin's gut. Ragna knows that it will be enough to stop the bleeding, but he has to force his eyes from the spots where blood begins to seeps into the blue cloth. Ragna wipes his eyes to dispel the wetness collecting there and rises to his feet.

He nearly stumbles on the first step away from Jin's body because something's caught his pant leg. When he looks down it's into dizzy green eyes, and he sees that Jin's fingers are clenching the fabric of his hakama tightly. On his face is pure curiosity, nothing evil or wrong at all, "Nii-san," he says, low and innocent, "Do you still..." Jin trails off, and Ragna understands, Ragna gets it. He closes his eyes and nods.

"Yeah. I still do," he says, and Jin smiles, really smiles.

His grip slackens on his pant leg, but when Ragna turns, Jin speaks again, "More than Saya?"

Ragna freezes, stumbling for words, anything mildly appropriate at all. "Jin, Saya..." he clenches one of his fists, takes that impossible breath and says it-- finally says it out loud, "Saya is dead."

Jin releases Ragna's hakama, and this time-- if the way he laughs means anything-- finds his answer good enough.


	11. Desecrate and Reconstruct

Jin purrs softly with pleasure; he reaches out to touch his brother's face. Ragna is right there in his lap, in his arms, and Jin doesn't think they deserve any ending less satisfying than this. "It's about time, isn't it?" he brushes the hair from his brother's forehead, leans down and presses against his lips, murmuring, "For you to wake up."

It's like magic when Ragna stirs on orders (waking with a kiss from his prince, and if that isn't a sign Jin doesn't know what is). His eyes open and stare up at him, widening in shock. He suddenly rises up-- Jin laughs at his brother's eagerness, lets him try to get up on his own, but at once he falters, hissing in pain. Ragna doesn't remember their fight at all as his hand flies to his stomach to touch at the thick bandages there. Ragna only holds up for a moment before swaying dangerously, prompting Jin to push him down, back into his lap. Ragna scowls, peers up him, no doubt trying to piece together what the hell happened and what was going on now. Jin decides to hold out the information for a while longer; his brother's confusion so appealing that he almost wants to tell him a lie; say that he found him after so, so long and saved him, just so he can see what's in Ragna's eyes before he remembers, and they turn sharp and distrusting. "I won," he tells Ragna simply, smiling widely.

Ragna goes rigid, his eyes narrow as he gathers where he is-- it's a basement, the windows are painted black and there are sitting in this dark place with just a bed and nearly bare tables in the corners; he had never thought of bringing his brother to his new home (Jin's glad that Tsubaki is deployed because he likes her, but she's just like Saya and who knows what will happen if Ragna and her meet). "You're my war prize, Nii-san."

Ragna glares at him hard, as hard as he can in the state he is, so disoriented and confused that Jin can't even take it negatively when he growls out, "Fuck you, Jin."

"The drugs are probably wearing off now, but I'll give you another dosage soon," he says pleasantly, rubbing Ragna's temples in a way he hopes is soothing, because Ragna was still injured from their battle (and no matter how much Jin knows that he deserved it, as much as he deserved to die the first time, that childish part of himself still wants to please his brother).

"Do you know what you're doing, keeping me here?" Despite how harsh his voice is, Jin doesn't care at all-- not until Ragna slaps his hand away and says, "I don't have time to play with you right now."

He wraps his fingers around Ragna's wrist, pressing against the bones firmly. Ragna feels so weak that it's funny, because Jin always remembers him being strong and bigger than him. Even so, he doesn't dwell on the notion, on the humor, because Ragna just told him that Jin didn't matter; that he has other things to worry about than his own flesh and blood, that his younger brother did not mean a thing to him. How _dare _he, is all that Jin can think at the moment; he has given everything for him, again and again and yet Ragna turns away from him, denies him, pretends he doesn't exist at all.

He grabs Ragna by the hair, tugs him hard and upright, slamming the back of his head right into the wall. Ragna gasps, and Jin finds the sound so pleasing that he almost does it one more time for the hell of it. Still, he refrains (there would be so much time to make Ragna gasp and cry and scream later; he would be able listen to every sound his brother could let out and figure out which one he liked best). Ragna incapacitated for the moment, Jin straightens him up against the wall, right underneath the hanging chains and shackles. The mansion had been a little known prisoner's camp during the civil war, he's heard, but it doesn't matter how or why; his brother always had the effect of distracting him from useless things, letting him only see what was important.

Jin takes a breath, anger swayed by those thoughts of adoration. "This arm, Nii-san," he says conversationally once Ragna's eyes start to focus again, dragging Ragna's arm closer to get a good look at it. "How do you keep it moving? You're even better with a sword now than you were all those years ago with your real arm. Is it magic? Or something new from Sector Seven?" Ragna refuses to speak, only glaring at him coolly, but Jin ignores it, running his fingertips along the length of the bicep, eyes the line where real meets imitation. He keeps talking, thinks about that day in a misty reminiscence. "You can control it excellently," he says finally, airily, "but... can you feel with this arm, Nii-san?"

His fingers are back at Ragna's wrist, pulling his hand to the belt of his uniform. His voice lowers a bit as he uses Ragna's fingers to pull open the clasp and delves their hands underneath the folds of his clothing and says, bowing his head to look up at Ragna behind his lashes, "Can you feel me?"

"Shit, Jin," is all Ragna can mumble, doing his best to act indifferent even when his hand is moved right to Jin's lower stomach. Jin can feel it, the heavy warmth of Ragna's palm spreading into him. He drags it lower, across his hips and thigh in a gentle caress like he used to imagine (Jin still imagines Ragna touching him now but it's not nearly as tender or teasing), used to experience. Ragna's cheeks tint the lightest pink, confirming that he and Jin are thinking of the same thing, of that terrible and wonderful past (Ragna's hands are warm, just as warm as he remembers, even through the soft, thin fabric of his undershirt).

"No?" Jin breathes, looking into Ragna's eyes, and once again not receiving an answer. Amused by his stubbornness, Jin straightens. "That's too bad, Nii-san," he says as links their fingers together, raising their arms against the wall, and pushes his body full against him. "I can feel you," the words are a moan that Ragna nearly returns--

But the joke is on him. This is punishment (Jin knows is it, even if he doesn't remember what for with Ragna so willing against him). Within seconds, the shackles are there around Ragna's wrists, and Jin's fingertips are digging into his skin hard enough to leave bruises. "You're disgusting," Jin whispers in his ear, voice completely unaccommodating. He has to hold back a little giggle when he hears the way that Ragna gasps in response, out of sheer surprise and disbelief. "This hard," Jin moves forward to press his thigh between Ragna's legs, rubbing against that bulge in his pants; loving the way that Ragna stiffens and tries to move away from him, Jin grabs his shoulders and presses him into the wall; unphased, he continues, lowering an octave as he looks at his brother through half-lidden eyes, "for your own little brother, hmm?"

Ragna doesn't look at him, but Jin can see the way he bites down hard on his lip, nearly enough to draw blood. Jin frowns-- he wanted Ragna to lash out or accept it, not falter completely-- and reaches out to tip Ragna's chin upwards so he could see his reaction completely.

This time, it's him who gasps. Ragna locks their gazes and he can see the pain on his brother's face, that his eyes are shining with unshed tears and it fills him with-- god, he doesn't know. Love, and wonder? Victory, surely, to see that Ragna finally gets it, finally understands the extent of what it is between them. But then Ragna breaks the stare and blinks-- and tears start to fall in drops down his cheeks.

Oh no, no, no. Jin draws back, feeling only sorrow in his chest now-- Ragna was in anguish here, Jin wanted him to hurt him, to break him into pieces sometimes, but he didn't want this; didn't want to make his strong and perfect older brother _cry_; he most certainly never wanted Ragna to regret anything, that's why Jin takes his face in his hands. "Nii-san, it's okay," he murmurs low. "It's okay," he repeats, pressing his lips right to his cheek, tasting the salt of his tears. His thumb brushes the hollow above his cheeks, and the way Ragna refuses to meet his eyes like this far too endearing. "Who is God to say it's wrong?" Jin says, kisses Ragna's eyelids softly, until they open. "God loves, that is for sure," he closes the distance between their lips, murmuring, "but he was never in love, was he?" before they meet.

Jin presses closer against him, softly, tongue finding its way into Ragna's mouth. He's worried now, at the way Ragna just closes his eyes, not bothering to resist anymore. How limply he hangs there... he just, trembles against him, from restraint or fear or something even worse-- and Jin can hardly stand it. At once, he wonders how many times Ragna has been hurt like this, if anyone else has ever seen him cry or quiver like this (so pure and unguarded, and so fucking beautiful) and is overcome by that sudden inexplicable urge to kill every single one of them.

Only he was allowed to be privy to his brother's insecurities, only he could look into Ragna's eyes and see what was wrong, that everything was wrong.

"Nii-san," he says it when they part, and Ragna meets his gaze, his lips don't move, but his eyes have dried and Jin can see that wonderful spark of resistance making its way back.

This.

This was his brother, the side that people were able to look upon; the side that must have enthralled thousands of men and women, catching their hearts the same way that Jin's own had been stolen, the day he was born. It's that shimmer of insecurity that sets his jaw. "No one can ever love you as much as I do," Jin says into his ear; his nails scrape down from the back of his neck to his chest, down to his hip. Filled with red hot lust as he feels the way Ragna shudders against the sensation, how he can feel the muscles twitching right under his skin, Jin confirms, "No one."

Ragna grits his teeth, fulling glaring at him now, and Jin rubs his fingers right there, against his waist. His brother is lovely beyond compare, that someone would have to be stupid not to see it, but if they did see it-- Jin frowns.

"Didn't you die?" he asks finally, is overcome by pure nausea as he thinks about all the years lost between them, that Ragna has lived and hidden from him for seven whole fucking years, seven years in which he had pined over his brother, and Ragna-- Ragna didn't spare him a single thought.

Suddenly all he can think about are those people who must have loved him in Jin's stead; they've seen his Ragna for years and years, ran their eyes over his face and ogled him without his brother even knowing; there's no telling just how many people have looked at him like this, have touched his skin, or even-- God, but it all shouldn't matter now because it's he and Ragna now; they could be reunited as family, and as family Ragna was his alone because Saya is dead (for a displeased moment the thought of Noel comes into his head, and he decides that he can afford to spare a few seconds with his brother to kill her, too).

It isn't fair how quickly his emotions change. Jin doesn't think he remembers anything like it before the military; he had been calm and processing in matters that he is now cold and aloof in, and he had been possessive and foolish but so, so in love as a child, but he isn't holding only that love against now, not when it was submerged in envy and lust.

Ragna chuckles softly, it sounds wonderful, just as good as when they were children. It was summer. Saya was asleep on the porch, and Ragna would take him into his arms, unabashed and fearless, back before Saya _told_ and Sister never looked at him (and Ragna never thoughtlessly touched him) the same way again. "I love you, Jin," he'd say always and it would make his heart beat so loud and so fast that it scared him (sometimes he nearly cried from it and Ragna would get this befuddled look on his face and lean down, leaving a kiss on his forehead). Ragna smelt of grass and sunshine and Jin _never wanted to let go_ but he had to-- Ragna was, Ragna had been a liar. Had lied again and again and never thought of him anymore; it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair at all. He used Saya as an excuse time and time again, so Jin decided that he wouldn't let him anymore excuses-- that Ragna would be his because Sister and Saya were long gone and broken and there was no one else, no one else but him; and before Ragna could forge a connection with anybody else, he would die. Beautiful and in his arms and _finally_.

Jin's so caught up in the past he nearly misses what Ragna is saying; his brother used to be so kind and honest and heartfelt, but now all he has in his voice in weariness and cynicism and Jin hopes it's because of him. "You tell me, Jin," he says, voice low and angry, "You're the one who killed me."

He laughs lightly, strokes the skin of Ragna's neck. He goes lower, rubs against that pale and perfect scar on his chest; Ragna's breath hitches and Jin tells him the truth; "I was young then, Nii-san. I'll make sure to do it much, much better this time."

It's only one finger but he can feel Ragna's throbbing heart beat, enchanting and rhythmic until all he can think about is how he had watched it stop so why was it still moving? Jin looks at Ragna's face and sees that hint glaring at him, and that red hot anger is back (he doesn't know why but fear turns to wrath and pride in an instant-- he thinks it's Yukianesa's fault, but her voice is so alluring when she tells him to focus on what's in front of him because it's what he wanted, isn't it? that Jin can't disagree with her, he never can). "Let me rephrase the question," he says when he finally comes to his senses; he's sure he sounds just as vexed as he feels. "Why are you still alive? And what happened, here?" There's no mistake about what Jin refers to as he rubs the cheekbone below Ragna's red eye.

It's the way he moves his eyes, downward, for just a second, that lets Jin know something is wrong.

Jin's hands are shaking when he considers it; of course, Ragna didn't want him to know the truth, didn't ever tell him a damn thing because he was too young or unrelated or unimportant. What the hell was so unknown and secret that could not stand between brothers?

"If you lie to me, Nii-san," Jin says, hand flies upwards to grip at soft flesh at the underside of his chin. From the look on Ragna's face (Jin would call it fear but that's impossible) his eyes have to be blazing with fury. He doesn't look away as he says the words, very gravely. "I will kill you here." To be honest, Jin doesn't think he would even if Ragna lied or didn't say a word; there was just too much between them to end on such a note, not enough closure in such an ending.

Their gazes remain locked until Ragna finally opens his mouth. "Rachel. She did it. I don't know how."

"She..." he lets the word hang in the air, and the look on Ragna's face tells him that she was the answer to both questions. He was boiling over-- didn't she know? No one else was allowed to leave their mark on his brother, only he was supposed to-- only-- only..! Of course she knew; he grits his teeth as he thinks of that smug little girl; no wonder, it's no question at all why she had been so conceited, had laughed in his face. She had played him, had taken his brother away from him and given him something, made him indebted to her, and Jin was the joke.

He doesn't know what he's doing before he's doing it; his hand is right there, clawing at Ragna's face, and the only thing ringing in his head is a plea to make this terrible thing _go away_.

Somehow Ragna's cries of pain make him hurt (he shouldn't be hurting at all because Ragna deserves this for letting another touch him). It's okay, Jin thinks, he'd make this debt go away; this eye and this life, you don't need it at all if she gave it to you, right? Jin presses harder into the eye socket, digging his thumb in right there. He can, feel, the tearing of the tendons, and tries his best not to moan when Ragna _screams_. It takes three whole minutes to remove the abomination, all the while, Ragna struggles-- whimpers-- pleads-- against him, pulling at his bonds and straining with every muscle in his body.

After a fierce tug, the final line's resistance goes to zero; the muscle snaps and the eye is completely in his fingers, disconnected; his brother loses all tension, and crumbles so limply that only the chains and Jin's body hold his weight. Jin's panting hard, and seconds before he blacks out, his brother gasps with those same broken breaths.

The eye stares up at him from the floor, and Jin looks at it triumphantly, crushes it under the heel of his boot. He cradles Ragna in his arms, and murmurs, "Tell me you love me," into his ears like a hidden order-- it doesn't matter if Ragna says it in his dreams as long as he says it. Now that Ragna is at his mercy, he unhooks the chain from the wall, instead locking him onto the bed frame in order to inspect his injury. Jin feels for the scrap of cloth on the bed and, after pouring water from the canteen on it, brushes the rag against his brother's face, his arm unmoving from behind Ragna's shoulders.

"You're so much more beautiful now, Nii-san," he sighs, cleaning the crusted blood and involuntary tears from his cheeks. There was nothing separating them, nothing but his heart, but Jin is willing to let it beat a little longer if he can continue touching Ragna like this. While he's unconscious, Jin pours the syrupy medicine down his throat to dull the pain, doesn't apologize because Ragna would forgive him either way.

When Ragna wakes, the world changes; that bleary look he gives is as though he's waking from a dream and seeing the truth now. Jin can't hold back his hopefulness; he just wants him to remember the past, back when Sister didn't know a thing about them and every kiss had been as though between lovers. Jin remembers it beyond the fog of time: Ragna had loved him back, loved him more. The way Ragna's eyes widen is all Jin needs; to think that he would obey the night-whispered demand and tell Jin he loved him just like this.

"I'm so sorry," Ragna chokes out, and Jin stares as he blinks and tears fall down his cheeks from the fringe of the empty hole in his skull; even as he wonders why his brother is apologizes and why he's crying, he's thinking that the sight is aesthetically grotesque, and he doesn't want to look away. Ragna reaches upwards-- toward him, him, finally-- wrapping his arms around Jin's shoulders for the first time in eight years; Jin's breath catches right in his throat when Ragna's green eye meets his. Ragna's voice cracks on the words as he shuts his eyes, tightly, "I, I did this to you."

When he sees the pure guilt, the self-abhorrence on Ragna's face, Jin can't stop grinning. He hides his face in his brother's neck, offering up a voiceless prayer to the Lord. Oh, God, thank you so much, he thinks and tells Him that, as long as He allows him this, it doesn't matter how many years he'll have to repent for his sins, or how hot the fires of hell are.

Ragna is in his arms, and he will never leave again.

It nearly hurts to keep the glee out of his voice, to sound desolate and accusing when he says, "You did, Nii-san, and you can never make up for it."


	12. Purgatory

i.  
It isn't something you ever admit out loud, that the only present you want to have is your own brother, kind and strong and prettier than any girl you'd ever met. But Jin is fearless, Jin is young and reckless and ready to say anything as long as it has a chance of making his wishes come true.

In theory, it's nothing difficult or complicated at all. Ragna is his older brother who makes him feel in ways no one else has so far provoked, and Ragna always said that if Jin wanted anything, he would just have to say the words. This close to Christmas, he doesn't think that Ragna would refuse him, even if he knew exactly how far down his feelings go. But he can't know-- heck, even Jin doesn't know that yet.

There's no subtle way of going about it. Jin reaches forward, grips at the back of his brother's shirt; when Ragna whirls around, Jin opens his mouth--

and nothing comes out.

Jin flushes, lets go, and shakes his head furiously, even as Ragna kneels in front of him and asks, "What's the matter?"

After a moment of staring into his little brother's eyes-- (Jin's face turns even redder and his mouth opens just once more, but not even a strangled, "Nii-san," can escape)-- Ragna sighs, doesn't ask him anything else, and simply leaves him with a pat on the head.

Jin's hands tighten into fists and he frowns deeply. The sentence isn't hard to say aloud, the concept isn't hard to fathom, so why had he been unable to speak once Ragna had looked at him?

He spends Christmas morning sulking.

ii.  
It's Christmas again, two whole years since, and not once has he been able to say it. It's terrible, irksome because they are the only words Jin wants to say, much more so than I love you, because that's a given-- and also because Jin can say it in a way that forces Ragna notice that he means it more than he's ever supposed to.

The tree looks beautiful this time, with lights that Ragna had managed to finally purchase through his savings. He had been working overtime this year, and clearly it's all for them-- but Jin is selfish, so selfish that he can't even appreciate it.

Once it's time to open presents, Jin's excitement is lacking, even as it comes to his turn. He lifts up the fairly large box, biting his lips to keep smiling, and does his best not to think that his brother is the thickest person in the world, that the only thing he wanted couldn't be bought.

The moment he rips open the side of the packaging, his face falls; for some reason, he can't stop the tears welling in his eyes. Ragna is at his side in one second, pure worry on his face. Jin should tell him that he's sorry, that he's under stress and this doesn't have anything to do with him but his throat closes up immediately, and by the time he can finally speak:

"This isn't what I wanted," spills out of his mouth.

The shock and hurt on Ragna's face is enough to pain him. Jin clutches the box to his chest, doesn't stop running until he's in the bathroom with the door locked. He hates himself; he's only able to say the worst things to his brother-- why can he say, "I hate you," with such gusto, when the reverse only comes out as a shy whisper?

He's so stupid, no wonder Ragna could never figure it out! It isn't his brother's fault, it isn't at all. Jin is the one who can't do it, the one blaming his inability on someone else. He is nothing Saya who managed to say everything with ease, smiling widely as she'd tell him, "I want to ride on a motorcycle with Nii-sama for Christmas." Those kinds of wishes are that Ragna liked to hear, that made him smile and look at her fondly, in a way that Ragna had never looked at him-- but that's on him, because he can't speak something so charming and truthful.

A simple knock comes on the door-- it must be Sister telling him how upset Ragna is with him, no doubt. He ignores it, trying to quiet his sobbing as he wipes at his eyes.

"Jin-nii-chan," he hears, and the voice isn't Sister's at all-- it's Saya. He chokes, and now he can feel anger boiling, especially if he's going to be lectured by her-- but she doesn't launch into anything. She stands there on the other side of the door, says, "It isn't his fault," and his eyes widen; oh, if that wasn't enough, to have his hypocritical little sister who never told Ragna her own mind berating him, saying, as if he isn't aware, "You know Nii-sama... unless you tell him directly, he won't know anything, so--"

If that's the case, then why couldn't have Ragna inherited a fraction of Saya's perception? She could look through him in an instant; she saw his plight daily, knew it all, how he struggled with his feelings and now his words, and is here to mock him--

"Nii-chan--" she begins again and he sees red, just wants her to shut up and hurls the only thing at hand against the door. Saya lets out a brief shriek when it hits with a crash and retreats, leaving Jin feeling victorious and tired and empty. He buries his face into his hands, giving himself a little pep talk, saying to remain be calm, that everything is going to be alright-- he'll make it that way. Once he stopped crying, once his eyes weren't so bloodshot, and he was feeling better, he'd go out and apologize to Ragna, and to Sister for ruining Christmas.

His gaze drops to the threshold. The corners of the box had broken apart, but what's inside managed to stay undamaged.

A thirteen inch, remote-controlled, flying helicopter. Jin shuts his eyes, sinking to the floor.

It's exactly what he'd asked for.

iii.  
"You don't have to hold back, you know," Ragna says to him in the beginning of December. He's obviously thinking about the events last Christmas even though Jin had come out of the bathroom looking ashamed and begging for forgiveness-- something Jin had hoped would be enough to pretend it never happened in the first place.

Jin swallows, biting at his lip, "I want..." he sighs, remembers that it doesn't matter what anyone else would think, tries not to think of the impending horror on his brother's face at the confession, and finally manages to force out his voice, "Nii-san."

Ragna blinks once, looks at him curiously, like he's supposed to go on. Jin swallows again, opens his mouth, says, "I want Nii-san." At once, Ragna's eyes widen, and Jin thinks finally, finally he's got it, he said the words and now Ragna can understand, can get what's been wrong year after year-- but instead, Ragna starts to laugh.

Jin feels that sickness grinding in the pit of his stomach as Ragna smiles and tousles his hair. "I'm not mad at you for last year, okay?" he says, like the words had simply been a clumsy attempt at apologizing. "I wasn't kidding earlier. I can afford to be a little frivolous-- it's Christmas, after all. Or should I surprise you?"

The look on Ragna's face is so perfect that Jin doesn't have the gall to be angry, doesn't have the strength mumble that he wasn't kidding either. Ragna's grin is small but full, his cheeks a little flushed from an embarrassment that is contagious. He seems so happy and proud, like how he always was with Saya, except even more so because Jin, and he knows himself best, has the most difficulty at expressing his feelings.

It's late, the lights are out and he sits lying in bed for what feels like hours before he speaks: "Nii-san. I wasn't lying." It's been him and Ragna alone in this room for ages now, since Saya turned 11, "I really--" he stops and shuts his eyes, "You don't have to buy me anything, Nii-san. I just want you, you to," his fists tighten in the sheets and he frowns, "look at me and stay with me, alright? I don't need anything else for Christmas as long as..."

Ragna is silent and Jin is fearful, doesn't want to see the reproachful look on his face at the final revealing of his true interests. Jin flushes hard, turns to face his brother's bed--

he's asleep.

Everything drains out of his body at once, the resolve, the fear, the relief at being able to get everything off of his chest. What takes their place immediately is a burst of indignation and profound melancholy.

"Nii-san," he says, once. No answer. His hands are shaking now when he climbs out of his bed; if only it were a joke, maybe Ragna's just faking it and heard every single word. But he's breathing deep and calm and not a single hint of confusion or disgust is in the lines of his face. Jin swallows once, wipes at his eyes and says that it's okay. He loved his brother's smile the most, and wouldn't something like this be so troubling that Ragna would never smile at him again?

His fingers are there before his knows it, tracing the lines of Ragna's lips, the thumb reaching the edge and pausing. Ragna stirs and Jin jumps, drawing his hand away. This is surely enough, he thinks, but before he retreats to his bed, he takes a last look at Ragna's face. Somehow the action brings the tears back to Jin's eyes because it isn't right, and because this is a test from God. God had given him these feelings, these terrible wonderful longings for his older brother so that he could overcome them, so he could see the light and someday truly thank God for making him a better person.

If he could pass.

Ragna turns his head a bit to the side, mumbles something so softly that Jin can't hear it and the corner of his mouth curls-- into a soft little smirk that makes Jin stop breathing.

It would be hard they said, it always was. But he would be a good man, a great man, God would make him so, if only he could resist these-- these...

His mouth presses against his brother's; the touch is featherlight because Jin can't bear to have Ragna wake up like this. It's long because Jin doesn't want to stop, needs to memorize how soft and full Ragna's lips are so he can have this memory forever.

He crawls back into bed, tears finally streaming down his cheeks once he's pulled the covers over his head. He had failed God, but instead of regret and sorrow, all he can feel is anger welling up. They had lied, everyone had. They said God was merciful but how is this mercy at all?

In the morning, Jin looks up at his big brother, smiles, says, "Whatever Nii-san wants to get me is good!" and the touch of Ragna's gloved fingers against his scalp is reward enough for lying.

"You should have just said so from the beginning," his brother says with mirth, and his laugh stirs something deeper than the bible ever did; Ragna, Jin knows it from his own experience, deserves to be a real saint, and has the radiance of an angel.

iv.  
Try as he might, however, to remind himself that Ragna was angry, had every right to be and would never forgive him, the thoughts do nothing to quell the lightness in his chest. Jin had seen Ragna's eyes as he tried to fight that monster: there had been fear, a fear that lit Jin's heart with a new fire. He still doesn't know if it was victory or disbelief that enveloped him when he thought that after everything that had been done, everything that Ragna had said to him, Ragna still cared, worried for him, wanted him alive and safe.

It hadn't mattered if it was simply brotherly obligation or a will to be the one to do him in, because it was a bond between them, ensuring Jin that his feelings weren't one-sided.

Maybe it had been that reassurance which had given him the strength to move.

He remembers how it happened clearly, but memory alone isn't enough to explain how or why or what; all he could see was his brother's bloodied body in her arms (like he belonged to her and that was just a terrible delusion) and his mind fills in the pictures of Ragna's corpse, of her dragging them both down into the Cauldron while he's lying there helpless. He refuses, absolutely refuses to have it play out like that--again, something says and he doesn't know why the possibility is so sharp and crisp like it's set in stone.

Ragna's eyes close, and Jin swears that his lips are murmuring his name, and that bitch cocks her head over her shoulder to look at him, _smirks_.

Yukianesa is screaming when his eyes frost over. Even the robot seems shocked as the atmosphere grows chilled, as the vapor in the air crystallizes. She drops his brother, turns her whole body to him with that cool look of robotic malice and suddenly stops. Her eyes grow wide as she tries to move, only managing to swing her arm at a sluggish pace before she lets out something like a gasp.

His grip on Yukianesa's blade tightens until his knuckles are white, all he can think is rage and hatred and there is _no fucking way_ and it snaps right in two--

Once the blinding light dims, Jin is panting and can hardly feel Yukianesa's presence. The entire Cauldron is covered in a thin layer of ice; a large misshapen pillar stands in the middle of the room next to his downed brother.

"Nii-san," he had tried to call, but his throat is sore and raw like he had been shouting at the top of his lungs. He crawls over to Ragna's body, ignoring how much blood there is covering him as he says, "We have to go now."

Jin shakes at him urgently, and Ragna doesn't respond, doesn't even twitch in response and it frightens him. "Nii-san!" he says again. When he looks up at the frozen android, he's chilled to the bone-- her eyes follow his every move. There was no escape; she hadn't been defeated, she was unbeatable for sure-- he had only stalled her, and he can't bear to waste any time. Jin allows himself a breath as he climbs to his feet and pulls Ragna over his shoulder.

Ragna's wounds had started to close up by the time they were out of the Librarium, but his eyes are still closed, body limp. It's pure luck that he spots that woman from the slums and commands her in the most pathetic voice (he can see the pity in her eyes, as though she were looking at a race horse passing its prime) to take a look at their injuries if she didn't want to die. He doesn't even have a weapon anymore and he's exhausted, and he knows that she can tell his threats are empty. She doesn't speak a word as she takes them in, but her eyes say it all: every question as to how they had gotten in that shape and what they were doing and what _he_ was doing.

Ragna's pulse is normal, his heart beat is as stable as it should be. His wounds are completely healed.

But he won't wake up.

Had something been broken inside? Ah, there had been certainly no time to make the lady doctor fix it because they had to run: fast, soon, now.

By the time they stop, Jin hardly knows where they are; it's some abandoned cabin in the woods that hadn't been deserted for very long-- perhaps for use in the summer. It had taken only moments to break into the house, but an hour to take the chill from his brother's skin. He puts his hands over Ragna's to warm them and sighs softly to himself.

He dares to think of it then: the possibility that Ragna will always be in limbo like this, unaware and silent and beside him. Inside of Jin is such contradiction at the notion; he can hardly bear the sight of his brother's weakness, and the thought of his brother fading before his very eyes is harrowing-- but like this, he is Jin's, entirely. The same part that weeps for his brother's damage, coos that it's fine for Ragna to break; if he's too broken for anyone to want him, then that is even better. After all, Jin would always take him in, no matter what the conditions were, no matter what Ragna's feelings were for him.

He lifts his gaze from his brother to stare out the small window and gasps softly. "Nii-san," he says with a touch of disbelief, fondness, as he watches small flakes of white float down from the sky, "It's snowing." Jin turns to his brother, reaches for Ragna's cool cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with a gentle touch. No, he's a fool to think things can stay like this; it can't last long at all, he's sure. Sooner or later they'd come for him-- that monster would be back, the NOL would send their soldiers, vigilantes would seek out Ragna's bounty-- _something _(or Ragna would just wake up and disappear on his own).

But Jin's thankful it has lasted this far, hopes it does at least until the end of the day, because then (and he must be lying to himself when he thinks this) he can have no regrets.

Jin moves his brother's chair to face the window, and puts his arms around him; Ragna doesn't do a thing to resist his embrace, instead slumping forward into Jin's shoulder, and that's completely fine. They've never had a white Christmas before, Jin realizes as he lets out a breath he's been holding-- maybe for years. When he thinks about it, this is a gift all its own; suddenly his eyes are tearing and he's glad, just this once, that Ragna isn't able to see or comprehend, because Jin is so happy that he's ashamed.

"Merry Christmas," he says, and it's probably the best Christmas he ever remembers. Even if Ragna doesn't know a thing, Ragna is here and for him alone, depending purely on him. Ah, he thinks, they don't need anyone, not Saya to be a sister, or Sister to be a parent-- well, maybe Ragna needed them but he never did.

Ragna doesn't flinch, the same way he hadn't all those years ago, when Jin kisses him-- Ragna's mouth is relenting, just as sweet and soft as he remembers. This time, however, Jin kisses him deep and hard, unafraid of him waking, thinking how fine it would be if he awoke like this, with Jin firm against his lips. But Ragna doesn't stir, Jin doesn't mind because he's sure that they'll never get to have a lucid moment like this.

"I'm sorry," Jin murmurs, "I never get you anything worthwhile," cradles Ragna's head in his hands and stays that way for a long time-- draped over his brother, taking in his warmth and sharing his own. It's good this way, he thinks as his consciousness begins to fade, and swears that Ragna moves against him, returning his embrace, to keep him from slipping. It has to be a dream.

But maybe it isn't, maybe Ragna had been watching, had been paying attention all along:

When the sun's rays are thick enough to wake him, Ragna is gone. The chair where he had sat is empty, and even though Jin's eyes ravenously scour the room for any trace of his existence, nothing turns up at all-- his brother had simply, vanished, just as he had known would happen. Even so, Jin's mind goes blank once he considers it; he sits up rigidly, the makeshift blanket that had been over him sliding down to pool at his hips.

It's just a piece of clothing, but his gaze locks on it and all he can think is _Oh, God_ as he reaches forward. The cloth is thick and heavy and red, still warm and warm from Ragna (he knows it because even if they've been apart for seven years, it had only taken one embrace to remember the difference between their heats).

His fingers clench his brother's coat-- it smells like him too, like love and summer, even in December-- but for some reason his hands are trembling. His eyes are burning and love and hatred for Ragna swirl fervently until all he can think is _Nii-san, Nii-san, Nii-san_, and all he can gasp is, "You bastard," in the lowest voice.

At first, he's laughing, loud and uncontrollably into the crimson of Ragna's coat, but soon enough the fabric is dampening against his face, and he isn't sure if he's crying tears of sadness, relief, or joy-- not even when the forced peals of laughter degenerate into quiet, desperate sobs.


	13. Irrevocably

"Nii-san, you're so stupid," he says through the blood climbing up his throat. He's past pain now, only feeling damp and chilled at his gut; despite the blessing of numbness, he doesn't want to look down, doesn't want to see the gaping hole left by Ragna's sword-- the one that Ragna has trouble tearing his eyes away from even as his brother is literally dying in front of him. Jin knows, knew that he was worthless against his brother before the battle had even begun-- no matter how much he wants to see Ragna falling apart at his feet again, killing him once was both too much and not enough.

Jin wants to say it, has to tell Ragna what he means, what this means, manages to wheeze out, "Nii-san--" just once before gagging on that metallic taste in his mouth. At once, his chest seizes. He gasps for air and coughs hard, hard enough spray blood right across Ragna's face and suddenly, all the words and truths on the tip of his tongue get away from him. Instead Jin finds himself grinning, the expression of sheer _horror_ on Ragna's bloodstained face downright comical to him. The long speech that he had always meant to give on his death bed vanishes from his mind completely as he laughs aloud, uncontrollably, until it sends him into another series of bloody coughs that mar the white of his gloves and not his brother's handsome face.

Ragna's fist clenches in Jin's sleeve at the action, as though trying to provide a support that was both incoherent and useless. He watches Jin's heaving breaths wordlessly, doesn't make a sound in response until the moment when he grits his teeth: out from his mouth comes this soft puff of breath, like it's Ragna's last lifeline that he's been holding onto since their roles were reversed. Ragna's beautiful eyes bore into his (Jin hates and loves the different colors, hates its unfamiliarity, loves the bold red hue that suits Ragna so truly), and shut just as Jin begins to realize what emotion he's seeing in them.

Then-- to Jin's surprise and horror-- the tears come, falling in two silent tracks down the curve of Ragna's cheeks. Jin stares in wonder; feels something welling up inside him at the sight, at the sensation of those droplets splashing to pool at his collarbone.

Jin had tried his best back then. Tried so hard to become a good person just like Ragna was, acted like a loving, kind older brother to Tsubaki. He'd done everything that Ragna would have done, went along with any selfish request she had, tried his best to make her happy and please her. The things that he had said, had done, had carried for her when she was traveling and the things that he had dropped for her whenever she needed him, they were all reminiscent of his brother.

Ragna was always kind, always warm, always sacrificing. As a child, it had seemed to be an easy life, never having to live for yourself-- but Jin could hardly stand it! Still, with every repetition he felt a little lighter, a little closer to-- being-- his brother.

Just when that transformation was nearly complete, he'd met Saya's dead ringer. Clumsy and infuriating, the girl had been just like her in the single aspect that she ruined everything for him, again.

Honestly, Jin had been surprised at the depth of his resolve! He had smiled at her and introduced himself, somehow ignoring that whimpering inside saying, it's her, why is she still here-- she's supposed to be dead! No, he had been smiling! Had been so civil and polite to her even as his mind started to speed up, overload. He was struggling to hold on to his composure because he had been doing so well all along and how could be like Ragna if he cracked? If he broke and tried to hurt her, if he, reached out to squeeze her slender little neck and set her ablaze---

just like Jin had all those years ago

but he wasn't that Jin anymore. He was new, he was Jin Kisaragi, studious and amicable and _perfect_, such a quaint addition to the family. The old Jin wouldn't have been able to do all this! He had been too weak, too dependent, too cruel. With that mindset (he remembers it clearly, because the weels in the orphanage were long and filled with thoughts of Ragna and endless regrets), he wouldn't have been able to topple his "family members" whom he could never think of as his brothers. He couldn't choke out the word, "Nii-san" without Ragna forcing his way into his mind and bringing him back to Jin instead of Jin Kisaragi, and always referred to them far too respectfully.

Of course, they had laughed and called him a servant because of it. They told him to carry their bags and clean their rooms-- "because you're the most recent addition," or the youngest, they'd say, but it was because he was trash. A nothing with no ties to anyone but his memory, who stubbornly refused to acknowledge his seniors as family.

Even his parents (the word feels odd on his tongue; Jin didn't see them more than twice a year before he enlisted and the memories of his birth mother and father are too vague to count) had felt the same way about him, looking down on him due to it. It was charity, they had told him very clearly when he came to live with them. He was chosen because he was intelligent and learned things quickly, he would be going into the military like the rest of them, and he had better make something of himself.

Jin smiled at the time, had accepted it and obeyed them to the letter. After all, everyone who knew him was dead, everyone who knew of him thought he was dead and he could be anything.

At first, Jin thought that he could be Ragna in his brother's absence (and had tried so hard to succeed because his brother was gone and he needed something to remember him by other than the warmth of his chest and deep despair in his eyes). Even so, there was always something so wrong about it, and eventually the gratification he had once received began to melt away to anger and chagrin with every interaction.

Jin gets it now, as he watches those tears trail to the underside of Ragna's chin, what had always been missing from that life:

Sincerity.

Of course! He didn't mean any of it! He had tried to change, he had lived his life as a different person to lose himself and make a new him, but it didn't work. No, it couldn't have, because as long as Ragna was still alive, a piece of the old Jin was inside of him, waiting to grasp his brother's hand so he wouldn't get lost.

Jin can't help but smile; there was no way he could emulate this, no way he could become a person who would cry because someone he knew so long ago was dying, no way he would ever shed tears for a hero whose only deeds were massacre. Jin puts his hand to that cheek, wants to confirm that those tears are falling and for him, and sighs softly when Ragna opens his eyes.

"Don't cry for me, Nii-san," he says finally, "Didn't you hear about all the things I've done?" The list of those is long, all connected together like a chain reaction where the first link is the day of his graduation ceremony. The day he had obtained a Nox Nyctores. Jin remembers his near agony, the anticipation as he waited for that moment, because he had been all too curious about the rumors surrounding the weapons. Tsubaki had been worried, telling him how Carl had gone missing and stolen one, had gone crazy because that's what they do to you. Would Jin go crazy, too? How would it feel to go crazy? To lose those inhibitions and gain confidence just from having something in your hands?

Jin's mind had been wrought with questions when he stepped forward and offered himself to the blade. It had shone brightly in response, the temperature of the chapel lowering as Jin sought the handle of the blade. He had been waiting for this moment, perhaps all of his life; Yukianesa was finally in his hands and he felt

nothing. Absolutely nothing. Jin's breath caught in his throat, disappointment and anger swirling in head at ever believing such--

"Why do you hide?"

The voice that spoke was emotionless, quiet, and straight inside of his mind. The seconds he spent standing there had stretched for him, until he understood her words exactly. Nox Nyctores were amazing. They were a magic potion that changed a person time and time again, and now he knew, finally knew:

Jin Kisaragi was not born to become Ragna-- he was destined to be something else-- something wonderful, something terrible.

A hero.

It had been his calling, his destiny-- yet Ragna was here, saying "I'm sorry," with that look on his face, lifting his hand to cradle Jin's. "I should have been there for you," he says low, full of the self-hate Jin had once been so close to understanding, "I always thought-- that," thought that Jin could live without him? Ragna doesn't finish the sentence, lets it fall apart into silence before choking out again, "I'm sorry."

Jin should be feeling vexed, angry at his older brother for doing what he remembers hating, for putting everything on himself and never even trying to oppose him all those years ago (six? seven? He used to know the length of their parting to the day just an hour ago and now he can hardly recall the date) when Jin had said that Saya's death was his fault alone.

Instead, all he can think is that this is just like him. More than anything, it's a comfort, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe nothing has changed. "Nii-san," Jin says, his voice is small and weak, eyes are shining just a little. He's being selfish, playing on Ragna's feelings, but he doesn't care at all. "There's only one way to make me forgive you," he murmurs, doing his best not to chuckle, not when it's already hard enough to breathe.

The tips of his fingers are growing numb and his vision is dimming just a little, despite the strong press of Ragna's palm against his stomach. "Do you remember?" Jin asks slowly. To his surprise, Ragna freezes for only the briefest moment.

"Yeah," Ragna tries his best to smile but ends up looking more miserable-- Jin isn't sure if it's due to what his last request entails or if it's the sheer idea of Jin having a last request in the first place. Ragna leans forward, presses his lips against his in a touch so gentle, as if Jin was going to break like Saya did all those years ago.

Jin's hand drops from Ragna's cheek to the back of his neck; he uses every bit of his remaining strength to crush their mouths together because God knows he'd better not be going to hell without a souvenir. His tongue slips deep inside the bitter kiss, searching until he can finally taste past blood and tears, can finally revel in the sweet sentimentality of Ragna's mouth.

All the words are gone from his mind, from his lips when they separate. He slumps against his brother's shoulder, chest heaving as he shuts his eyes. "Jin." Ragna's voice must be scraping against the bottom of his throat or his hearing's going already, because it sounds so strange and strained. "You know-- I, no matter how much, I tried to hate you, after Saya, I never could. I mean-- I still--" Ragna swallows hard.

Oh, how Jin wants to open his eyes, wants to see what horrible, wonderful expression his brother is wearing for him, but he can't move at all. His breathing grows more steady, faint, and his eyes are unopening, spurring Ragna into shock. "Jin!" he cries out, wrapping his arm tighter around him. Ragna's chest feels feverishly warm against his own; it confuses Jin at first, before he realizes that his body temperature must be dropping faster than he thought. It's sobering; death had always seemed to be eventual, delayed by his own luck and fortitude, so impossible that he hadn't been thinking about it seriously at all. But now, he finally recognizes, accepts, and admits-- or rather, is forced to-- that he's going to die.

Ragna seems to come to terms with it at the same moment; Jin can feel a warm dampness at his shoulder that isn't blood, and hear sobs so distinct that he can't pretend otherwise. There's an uncommon note of panic in his voice, amidst tears, as Ragna fervently says, "You can't die, Jin. Not-- not when, there's only you for me, you know? Only you!"

Jin is splash of emotions all at once: that childhood indignation at being the last resort, even though Ragna was the only one he had since the very beginning; that grief at it all being so late, anger at his own weakness, because there would be a future, if he could just-- but he can't, and even through that regret and sorrow, there is joy, love;

and that untitled feeling sweeping through him because Ragna has finally said those words he had been wanting to hear for seven years. This wonderful thing assuring him he can find solace now must be serenity (or is it just the feeling when your heart finally stops beating?).

"I couldn't love you like you wanted, but that doesn't mean that I don't love you, because I-- God, Jin-- I love you so much and that's why you can't, _you can't do this to me_."

_Oh, Nii-san,_ Jin thinks desperately, before even his thoughts leave him,_ if you say something like that, there's no way I'll be able to rest in peace._


	14. Vanquish

The unrelenting darkness of the Boundary opens up like a theatre curtain as he's roused out of that catatonic sleep for the nth time. It's too soon, but she won't give up. He can almost hear her voice now, cursing and spouting more orders as she does everything in her power to bring him out of the Edge. He knows that he must return, accepts this, but—

A agonized shout. Blood and ice everywhere, and glaring eyes that manage to chill even Hakumen to the bone, that sharp blade poised and ready to strike at his own brother, the Black Beast who was wretched and doomed to the acrid end of fratricide again and again.

This world's future, he assumes. While the aggressor is not fierce enough to be a challenge, he brings Hakumen unease, makes his spirit shrink in something that is not fear— shame. Disappointment. _Ah,_ he thinks, foggy recollection stirring in the back of his mind. Those eyes are the same color as the Dark One's, he realizes, the same color as his own,_ or perhaps, my past._

It isn't as if he forgets, but everything slows to a crawl in the Edge, makes his head clouded and unsure. More than that, there is the feeling of discontent, the wish not to know the man standing before him, to never remember why exactly he knows every thought in his head, the feeling of innocent blood against his fingertips.

"When will you get tired of killing him?" is all Hakumen wants to ask, but there's no reason to speak— he's in a different dimension, existing alongside these memories, these eventualities, these alternate universes, and Jin would never be able to hear him. Besides, Hakumen already knows the answer better than he ever could.

"Nii-san," the person he used to be says, "I used to have feelings for you, you know. They were wonderful, beautiful feelings that made me want to go on... but you never noticed." He laughs, laughs the way Hakumen used to, fake and full of agony, before he quit altogether. "They withered and died, and now I can't feel anything anymore."

That's what he had thought, too, but it all proves to be very wrong— these years, decades, spent in the Edge had not numbed him. They should have, but instead, he feels every prickle of indignation when Yukianesa's edge glides along Ragna's cheek. Even though his feelings for Ragna are gone (they are not brothers any longer and Hakumen will soon, like always, have to kill him again), he wants to step forward and knock the blade away.

As if sensing the thought, the sword retracts, those cruel eyes flickering towards where he watches, as though Jin can see Hakumen standing right there.

And his past smiles, whispers, "Are you jealous?"

Before Hakumen can fully comprehend what's going on, it all disappears, shifts, but not before he hears the sickening squelch of Yukianesa slipping into Ragna's chest. As it should be, he knows; feelings he's forgotten the name of curl at his gut, making him weary and sick as he's left floating in the vastness of the Edge.

That too fades, or rather brightens, until another scene unfolds; this time the star is himself, truly himself, hair still gold but body broken and encased in armor. That previous him looks over what's left of the Black Beast, and suddenly, speaks. "Does it ever get easier?" Again, talking to him. Jubei's child makes him see odd things, puzzles, parts of his mind that he never wants to revisit in the first place, and forces them against him like accusations.

"Should it?" is all Hakumen can find fitting to say. He doesn't have to see it to know; he can remember the hot tears coursing down his face, self-hatred consuming him as though it was happening right now (and in some corner of this universe, he supposes, it just might be). A while ago, he had certainly been thinking back then, Ragna had been there to yell at him and hurt him, abandon him and do everything that he hated. But now, Ragna was a monster— no, not even that. Now, the brother he'd knew and loved, loved so much even after he'd given up loving, was nothing more than a corpse.

"The Boundary," he murmurs, "It's an abyss. It drains life. Personality. Thoughts." Hakumen shudders at the tone of his voice, can finally put a name to that deep despair simultaneously stewing in him. The memory dims, until all he can hear is that voice, "If I go in there, will it stop?"

He had been a fool.

The Boundary is mysterious and, for certain, never obeys anyone. All he had wanted was oblivion, death at this moment, had thought: _ Let them throw me into that terrible place_—_ anything, anything is better than this. I'd rather die._

Selfish thoughts, ones he couldn't blame himself for thinking, despite how wrong they were. He had thought that being a hero shouldn't hurt so much, that there was something wrong about it, that he had failed.

Now Hakumen has retrospect, has had time and time (so much time) to think about it all. He knows pain and guilt are the payment for becoming the savior of anyone. He had never experienced anything like true agony as the Hero of Ikaruga, had never felt anything other than pride and superiority and _victorious_. Yet, afterwards, all he felt was empty and disgusted with himself. He had stupidly thought that being a true hero would involve saving the land from demons like himself, not sacrificing his everything (his onlything) for a people that would eventually throw him away.

"What is it now?" Ragna does nothing to hide his annoyance, never did when it came to Jin; his face is young and exasperated, just like Hakumen remembers it best. Something inside of him clenches tightly; why bring up memories this old? He hardly had the strength to recall the previous ones, and somehow the prospect of facing his own innocence is crushing, irking, and completely laughable.

Jin frowns and hesitates, reaches out to grip at the hem of Ragna's shirt. "I want to go with Nii-san."

"What are you talking about? Where?" Ragna's eyebrows furrow again, no doubt wondering who could have put this idea into Jin's head, and the answer would have been Saya. The girl had been more malevolent than she let on, and rather than Jin one-sidedly bullying her, their relationship had been closer to sibling rivalry.

"Everywhere!" Jin says, and before Ragna can tell him about how impossible that would be, he's crying into his chest. Ragna stands there, stunned for moment before he gingerly rubs his fingers against his little brother's back, as Jin sobs out. "Don't leave me, Nii-san! You can't ever leave me!"

There's a surprised silence, and the words tumble out in that familial instinct as Ragna pulls him into a hug. "You idiot. Of course I won't." With those words, the world returns to the eternal black of the Edge.

He had been a child.

While he had technically been a child at the time, he had been naive, stupid, selfish, had adored his brother completely without really loving him (although Hakumen does not understand why he knows the difference _now_). Hakumen is not Jin in the respect that he accepts, understands Ragna's position as a young man; he cannot blame him, does not hate him or think of him as a liar— after all (and it hurts, hurts for some reason that he cannot determine), Jin had been the one who had left.

Those slumbering emotions more than stir— they revive, _hum_ within him. Over a century, he's been paying this pain, been paying for his sins in purgatory, until salvation finally came.

"Were you waiting here for me? All along?"

He believes in punishment, in justice, but this is not just.

Hakumen doesn't bear to look when gloved hands curl around him and everything in him is screaming for him to _kill_. This Ragna is just a figment of his imagination, nothing more than another spectre come to torment him for feeling guilt in the first place.

"I'm sorry."

It's all too much at once, so sharp and painful, his emotions just as raw as when he had entered the Edge, and Hakumen's voice is somehow trembling. "I loved you. Really, really loved you." Before he can change his mind, he has to act— there is no time for hesitation, no time to let himself be eroded inside of his own head.

The sword is in his hands.

"I know. I knew."

The blade in Ragna's gut. He twists it, hard. Ragna's body crumples easily, so easily to the floor.

"Not anymore," he insists, "There's nothing."

There's no anger or hate in those eyes, just quiet resignation, acceptance. "Good." There it is again— cinching in Hakumen's chest. He falls to his knees, foolishly at his brother's side, once again unable to leave. "That means you won't feel any pain, any anguish over killing me, right? I'm happy." Ragna laughs, soft and pained, like he's actually here and dying, one more time.

Hakumen knows better than to believe the lies of the Boundary, knows better than to let himself be caught up in sheer reminisce. Ragna would never say these things to him— there's too much blood (all on his hands) between them, and no matter how regretful he is (if he is at all), Ragna would never forgive him, let alone comfort him, let alone— _this_. His hand is caught by those fingers and brought to bloodied lips in a kiss that Hakumen can only pretend to feel.

"I hate it when you cry."

No matter how strong he is, this is enough to break him, to kill him—

_Slam._ The impact of a fist against metal, and everything disappears in static.

"Damn it! Not again! We were so close this time..." That too familiar female voice growls out, like a dream, and then even that goes to nothingness.

Ah, the Grimalkin, again, always. Hakumen knows his duty is to fight and kill, and will do just that, but he can't help the twinge of resentment in his chest. She is always prodding him, always stirring him from his slumber and sending him out into the world, the past, when all he wants to do is _forget_.

This isn't just, isn't fair, isn't right.

Again and again and again, he must drown in murder and remembrance until saving mankind is as hard as cutting off his own limbs. The punishment has to equal the sin, but Hakumen can't understand, no matter how hard he tries— nothing, no crime could ever be so terrible as to deserve this.


	15. spaces x metakosmia

When Yukianesa chose him, he wasn't sure what to do.

Somewhere inside he was certainly boiling over in anticipation, but he couldn't seem to find exactly where. He knew he was supposed to be pleased and pretended to be such, acted haughty and satisfied, but could not manage to feel an inkling of those things. The Head had smiled at him with pride, patted him on the shoulder and declared, "You have upheld the family name better than I could have ever imagined. I'm proud of you," while the stares of his brothers had burned hateful, envious holes into his skull. Tsubaki had congratulated him in half-melancholic tones, struggling not to show her worry, her disapproval.

Yet even surrounded by all of these emotions of other people (hilarious, _disturbing_, that mere observers could be more affected by the events in his life than he was), all he felt was cold.

Yukianesa glinted in his fingertips, icy blade pale blue and incandescent.

_How fitting, _was all Jin could think.

The years were spent like that, caught between complacent and unconcerned as he rose through the ranks. The only thing that could stir him up was _her_ with those eyes and that voice, so utterly clueless. Even then, it was easy to resist the impulse to reach out and throttle that little neck until it broke, because she was Tsubaki's and Jin knew first hand not to touch other's things. Besides, he held nothing against Tsubaki; she was calm and peaceful and did her best to not interfere with him, a lesson that several others could have learned from.

It wasn't that he hated anyone, but he certainly disdained everyone.

Months on the front lines, his sword deep in the stomachs of hardened fighters and children alike, flame roaring around him until Yukianesa silenced it. There was no one to fight, only thousands to slaughter (so slaughter he did).

"You're amazing!" one of his men had said, "Fighting like that, even with your injuries." He immediately was at Jin's side with bandages, wrapping up his right arm that, now that Jin looked, was covered in burns and slashes.

Jin almost laughed, might have if he wasn't so caught up in his thoughts. "I didn't notice."

It hadn't taken long for Ikaruga to be crushed, and beyond war, what was there? Parades and meetings and promotions— pedantic showcases of his honor and duty toward the NOL.\

_Boring._

That was it; there was nothing left, nothing there that could excite him or please him as in his childhood. No interest, no will to do anything but exist, nothing but a solid layer of ice— until it all came back in a flourish at a single announcement.

The Reaper. Ragna The Bloodedge. _Ragna_.

Finally, finally, that passion and want had truly returned burning deep inside of him the way he'd never thought it would. It was scary and lovely, just how he wanted it most, because the more deadly and dangerous, the better it all paid off in the end. In his mind, there was no doubt that this Reaper was his brother, his Ragna who had died and come back again (for him? he wouldn't be so stupid as to assume such. It was for others, for revenge, for himself— _for Saya_ something whispered inside of him without his consent and for the first time in years, instead of finding himself in a state of solemnity, anger welled up as he forced the thought from his head).

After all, who else but Ragna could have such an effect on him? It was a joke, irony, hypocrisy! He had been perplexed and disgusted at his effect on others, when his entire universe shifted depending on one man. Somehow Ragna could make him want again, make him blaze with emotion just from the sheer notion of his existence.

Although skeptical, it was impossible to contain the strange sort of energy, vitality building within him. His control escaped him and he had finally snapped on his lieutenant— Tsubaki asked him about the bruises on Noel's neck the next day. It wasn't his fault. She was always too close and so unnerving, trying to get in the way of his and Ragna's final, beautiful reunion.

**(**_why can't you be happy for me, Saya? **just die already**_— _you are already a memory_**)**

For the first time in so long, he desired, _craved_.

"I want to see him."

Ragna was beautiful, more than he could have imagined, and everything inside that must have been kept back for seven years rose up, splashing out over him. He could hardly understand it, let alone take it. He was so happy, so angry and hateful and in love-

Blood was hot, the deep slashes across his arms stung like acid, his ribs were cracked and aching— his heart oh god he could hear it in his ears, beating and alive. And not just him— Ragna's lips were warm and soft and tasted just as sweet as he remembered, even after what he'd been through, even as Jin defiled him completely (he had never been so glad to be able to feel, to be able to _touch_).

Ah, but it couldn't last long enough; after the apex there was only one direction to go and it went, ending it all in anguish and death and laughable righteousness.

Just like that, his joy was gone— but life was voracious, didn't let him go when his glee had turned to rejection, had already sunk its teeth deep into his flesh. It was all a bad dream, a nightmare, but Jin couldn't wake up (if you died in a dream, it was good luck but what about when you escaped death so many times that you'd become immortal through process of elimination?). Like a bolt of lightning, Ragna had appeared for one blinding momentous second and then disappeared into the shadow of the night, leaving nothing but flames and destruction in his wake. Didn't Ragna know how much he hated fire and warmth, how much he loved frigidity because it was easy, numb, soothing?

But now—

but now...

it was gone.

Where did it go! That apathy, the lack, the wonderful blankness! It all evaded him with ease, now. When he reached for that layer of cold indifference, he could only find those same foolish tears he had cried in his childhood pouring down his cheeks. It was Ragna's fault, again, still, was always his fault. Just when Jin had been content, Ragna had to break him apart, had to crumble his effortless restraint with a single utterance of his name. Not only had Ragna opened the floodgates, but he always dissembled every tool that Jin could have used to restore them.

How could he go back? Now, when he finally knew what it was that he was missing (what he would always be missing), it was impossible to go back. His foundation had been shattered to pieces— no, it had been rebuilt, been resurrected after death like Ragna himself like he doubtlessly would again (he had to, **he had to**) leaving him fragile and lost in the forest of his own persona.

More than anyone, Ragna should have been able to understand! He should have known first hand how disorienting it all was without something to cling to!

**(**Nii-sanNiisan**_where_**_..._why did you leave me?**)**

By himself the world was dizzy, dark, and frightening— unrelenting— terrible— **scary**

_"Is there anything that doesn't scare you?"_

Did it really matter? He had faced his fears again and again batted down the night, all but torn the moon from the sky and killed, killed, **killed**. What did it matter what he was afraid of when he was strong, when he could break anything (everything) that irked him? Yet, somehow he couldn't dismantle the sadness overflowing like a tapped water vein, filling him to the brim with cerulean emotions that he could just not _turn off. _All there was was pain and agony coexisting with hate and fear because he detested being wounded, feared whatever could manage it—

_"That's a part of life, Jin. Everything can cause you pain."_

_**(**_"Not you, Nii-san! You won't ever hurt me, right?**" **

A breathless pause, a smothering hug. The low, reassuring rumble of Ragna's voice.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right."_**)**_

Always a foolish child, he had believed the words up until the moment Ragna betrayed him, had believed them as their swords crossed and clashed, believed them even now.


	16. Bereave You Me

Jin doesn't know how he's able to stand it, when Ragna says, "I have to take care of Saya," and everything just falls apart like that. How selfish had he been to have hoped that Saya was truly behind it all somehow, that Saya could only be liberated in death and that she would leave their lives as quickly as she had reappeared.

But Jin understands, Jin knows what Ragna is, kind and nurturing and caught up in the past. Saya is the one thing Ragna thought he had always lost. Even though there had been other causalities, other horrible things that Jin had done, with proof of Terumi's influence and Saya alive and returned to him, Ragna extends a tentative forgiveness over him. Instead of liberating, it feels overbearing. He isn't nearly sorry enough to warrant it.

Jin presses his lips together hard so he doesn't frown, looks up and nods, giving his brother his best attempt at a smile, "Yes, I know. I..." What had he been thinking? There was no way for them to ever return to the simple night where Ragna had finally said yes to him. Whether Ragna needed to be loved or comforted or just grew tired of saying no, he had indulged him fully and let Jin touch him, touched him back with the same wanton lust. It seems so far away now, a fleeting dream that never happened. "I have to care for Tsubaki, too," spills out of Jin's mouth. It's not an excuse. It's the truth. Tsubaki was blind, because of him in a way; because of her feelings for him, she had been exploited. Jin was the chink in her armor, had been used to turn her against everything she stood for (he briefly wonders if _this_ is the way Ragna feels toward him, obligated and full of regret).

"Hey," Ragna whispers, the look in his eyes almost sorrowful as he touches Jin's arm. "You can come home anytime, alright?"

It should be comforting, but there are so many things wrong with his words, his tone— Ragna is really telling him to forget, to pretend not to love him more than brothers ought. That if he did, they could all live together, go back to a time when things were innocent and bright. They could be a family again— but Jin's gotten greedy. He's gotten a taste of what's beyond that, doesn't want to be restricted as Ragna's brother. He reaches up to touch Ragna's face, runs his thumb over his bottom lip and watches the way that Ragna almost flinches. He can't believe how he looks so fucking _disappointed_, like Jin should be able to forget, like Ragna's already forgotten (and that's probably what hurts the worst).

Jin doesn't know whether he wants to laugh or cry. He pulls his hand back, closes his eyes shut when he realizes that he _wants_ to laugh because he can already feel the tears welling in his eyes. Jin wants Ragna's approval almost as much as he wants Ragna to really love him (but the former is so much easier! All he has to do is throw away his feelings, never tell Ragna how much he loved him again, and he will be welcomed with open arms), so it's a wonder that he can keep his voice steady, "You know I can't do that."

Those words seem to cut his brother, injure him worse than any flick of the wrist with Yukianesa in hand, as though Ragna is expecting him to say anything less. After a moment, Ragna lets go of him; the spots where his fingers were are burning cool with frigidity. "Jin, I—" he pauses, struggling, trying hard to force what's in his head out of his mouth and Jin goes rigid, wonders what could be so horrible that even Ragna stumbled over it. But soon enough, Ragna stops trying to form the words on his tongue, instead gives him a smile (such a sad caricature of the one resounding in his mind, from mere weeks ago when Jin had somehow regained hope for everything). "Let's talk about this later."

They don't.

Days pass, then weeks, and Jin thinks he hates Saya more now than he ever did. He wants to accuse her of stealing Ragna away from him again, wants to believe that it's entirely her damn fault, refuses to think that Ragna is running away from him just like last time. Maybe Ragna thinks it's safe to hide behind her now, is thanking Jin's newly obtained self-awareness, the fading of his disregard for anyone other than himself just as much as Jin curses it. Jin remembers how dangerous he had been, how free— if he were still that person, he wouldn't have thought twice, would have dug his sword right into Saya's side the first moment he could. Jin would have made absolutely sure that Ragna had no time to save her because, when those two were standing across from each other, all he could feel was dread.

Jin had clung to Ragna before, had begged him not to abandon him ever again, and Ragna had calmed him, stroked his hair and spoken so gently, "I won't. I won't abandon you, I promise." After all, he said, they didn't have anyone else but each other. No wonder why Jin had been so skeptical of it, even as he was flooded with relief. Ragna had made him a promise. When it came to those, the only thing he was ardent in was breaking every one. Sure, Jin may have only had Ragna, but Ragna had a choice— and he didn't choose Jin. The most laughable part is how Ragna thinks that he's done nothing wrong, that it is _Jin_ who left him instead of vice versa. Oh, as if Jin could! If he did, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much.

Sometimes Jin can forget it— he has to. Without her sight, Tsubaki seems to be so in tune to everything else, can tell when he's dwelling, and her expression changes. She finds his fingers so very easily, tells him, "I know that there's something bothering you, Jin-nii-sama..." and Jin has to pretend it's concern in her voice instead of pity, otherwise he might go mad.

"It's nothing. I promise." Unlike Ragna, Jin does his best to keep his promises, makes it nothing for the hours he spends with her. In a way, Tsubaki's presence fixes him a little more, soothes him and keeps him from hating Saya too deeply, aching for his brother too intensely.

Weeks turn into a month, and then two of them go by. It's such a long stretch of time wherein Jin can only dream of Ragna's face, his voice. He doesn't even entertain the possibility of stopping by Ragna's place (his _home_)— Jin knows that he can't forfeit everything just to watch his brother at Saya's bedside, completely apart from him and monopolized all over again.

Maybe Ragna was wrong in more ways than one. Maybe they both had a choice, and Jin had chosen Tsubaki (Jin doesn't consider that he would have left her without a thought if Ragna had simply given him the option).

The day he finally sees his brother is so damn far away that Jin's already stopped counting (not true, it's been 71 days since he had been offered family when all he wanted was Ragna). It's fairly unceremonious. There's a knock on the door and suddenly Ragna is standing before him, looking furious, nothing but outrage in his voice when he says his name.

Indignation swells in Jin's chest because Ragna has come here for a reason, and that reason is not to see him. It burns hot and cold in his chest, makes him speak before Ragna can. "I waited for you forever, Nii-san. But you never came until today. Instead... you ran away from me."

"I never ran!" Ragna sounds so angry, but then he inhales and his voice lowers, "I was waiting, too. I wanted—"

Ragna had been? Yet Jin doesn't feel more than a brief flicker of glee, instead feels incredulous. "You were waiting for me to come to you? What an utter lie. You used Saya like a wall so that you could avoid me. You knew I'd never— and yet you still act like it's my fault?"

"Jin," Ragna says sharply, berating and almost pleading with him at the same time, "You can't blame me. Saya, she..."

Him saying that name with such little aversion feels like a slap across the face. Jin knows he's being unfair, makes demands anyway, "Don't talk about her anymore."

Ragna's face tenses in a way that Jin's never seen it, "She's your sister, Jin."

"And I'm your brother. So what? What the hell does family mean if," Jin cuts himself off, doesn't know what he's trying to say anymore, just wants Ragna back with him—

"Saya's dead."

Such a simple sentence takes the life out of them both, and all Jin can think to say is, "I'm sorry," like he's a third party.

Ragna's voice is cold, almost disgusted with him, "She was _waiting_ for you."

Ah, there the truth comes. Ragna hadn't been the one waiting for him after all. It was her. Ragna simply wanted for Saya's feeble, impossible dreams to come true before she took her last breath. "What are you really here for?" Jin bites out. He wants to ask so many things, why didn't Ragna come to tell him before it was too late? If it would have made him happy, Jin would have done it— and why couldn't Ragna speak to him even once before now, with news of Saya? "Don't tell me you're trying to keep your promise now that I really am the only one you have. You're so needy, Nii-san! Do you require someone to depend on you that badly? Or did you just come to scold me?"

Ragna's eyes flare, and all the lovely physicality Jin has missed comes full force in the form of a punch to his jaw. Jin's reeling from the blow, his vision fading to black for a moment before stinging pain revives him. Oh, how he misses violence, misses his brother so much that blood on his lips tastes like a kiss. Ragna curses at him and it sounds so strained, like he can't breath, and Jin looks up at his face.

Ragna is crying.

Jin is immediately filled with shame, climbs off the ground and lets Ragna grip the collar of his shirt and throttle him, lets him rail and rave against him. Ragna swears loudly, emotionally, "I just got her back— and now she's gone!" Those had been his exact thoughts when Ragna had left him. Jin had wanted to hit and cry and scream and he lets his brother do the same.

Once Ragna calms a bit, Jin curls his arms around his brother's waist, says, "I'm sorry," and this time, it's the absolute truth. "If I knew,"_ how pleased it would have made you, how much it would hurt you if I didn't,_ "I would have been there." It feels so wrong to be offering any sort of comfort to Ragna, who had always been the one consoling him. Jin is not made for this, can't fully understand the depth of Ragna's anguish beyond the ache in his own chest when Ragna clutches his shirt harder, leans into him, and starts to sob. Hell, Jin doesn't know what to say but he has to say something, anything to make him stop crying, so he blurts out whatever comes to his head. "You don't have to worry, Nii-san. I don't know if you want me anymore, but..." _I won't be like Saya._ "I won't leave you."

"Shit, I... I'm such a fucking useless older brother," Ragna gasps out, like it's his fault that Saya had always been weak, like he didn't do enough to keep her alive.

His brother was always so naive, liked to think that he could affect anything, that things didn't just happen. He doesn't know weakness, fate like Jin does. "Don't be ridiculous. You tried harder than anyone. I know that, Saya knew it. She loved you for it. I—" Jin sucks in a breath, "I do, too. So... don't hate yourself. If you want to be angry with someone, be angry with me."

Jin doesn't know how long he spends murmuring into his ear, how long it takes for Ragna to pull away from him, stare up at him, hesitant and guilty. "Would it be horrible if I asked—"

"No," Jin says immediately without even considering the rest of the sentence. What Ragna wants dawns on him in seconds, and months of hatred and impotence fall away. Jin tightens his grip on Ragna, muttering, "No, I'll come with you." He swallows, "I have to go see her, don't I?" Didn't he owe Saya at least that? For managing to love him despite it all (ah, _now _Jin remembers all the time they had spent together as children, remembers that she wasn't always ill and being taken care of, had first and foremost been his friend).

Somehow Jin's words make Ragna smile, and he realizes that he has to thank her for this, too, for dying and leaving Ragna with no where else to go but into his arms. "Yeah," Ragna says, "She would like that."

Minutes that feel like hours pass with Ragna so close, and yet only a day has gone by before Jin prepares to set off. The moment he enters the Yayoi tea room is the one where he truly comprehends guilt. Tsubaki seems so pleased to see him, makes him feel even worse when she opens her mouth. "Jin-nii-sama, you seem to be in higher spirits today. Did something good happen?" as if she could deign his sense of fulfillment from his footsteps alone.

Jin wishes that he could share her lovely smile, but he can only frown. "Tsubaki," he says after a moment, and her face falls, darkening at his tone.

"...You're leaving, aren't you?" God, her voice is so small. Jin liked it better when Tsubaki was innocent and oblivious. He hates how she can see into the heart of him now, can't stand that she knows how exalted he is when they were going to be separated. Tsubaki lets go of an unsteady breath, "I knew you would one day. You always seemed so unhappy here, even though you tried hard to hide it, for me." All Jin can do say is her name when he takes the seat opposite her, reaching out to hold her grasping hand. Her words become bogged down with sheer emotion as she continues, "You know how sad I'll be to see you go, but honestly, I'm glad that you've found it, that you... can go somewhere that makes you happy."

Jin wants to tell her that Tsubaki is that place, too, but Ragna is special, different, everything. He wants to reminds her that this isn't goodbye forever, that he'll be back for her and he'll visit often, but then tears start to stream down her cheeks. Jin's voice dries up as Tsubaki clutches his hand, tells him, "I'm really, really happy for you, Jin-nii-sama," with so much fervor that she has to be fooling herself.

Jin feels terrible because he can watch her cry and not say a word.


	17. don't remind me

Ragna doesn't know how it all goes down exactly— things are a blur, a rush of fight or flight cascading over his nerves when his eyes meet green ones so familiar that it makes him want to choke. In the middle of that whirlwind of emotion (anger and disgust), there is a calm, a sense of disbelief and a tentative mirth that can't be restrained, because it's _Jin_.

He doesn't even need to hear that word, "Nii-san," to know it surely and uncertainly, can only choke out his brother's name.

Ragna doesn't let him get another word out beyond, "It's been so long," before he reaches out for Jin's throat to squeeze. Jin takes his hostility in stride, raising his scabbard to knock his grasping hand away as he takes a step back. His eyes narrow, and his hand quickly finds the hilt to flick his blade at Ragna's stomach.

From there, things quickly degrade. Ragna isn't sure what's in his own head, let alone Jin's. He has so many reasons to attack and fight Jin, but Jin is returning those strikes without flinching, cooing between strikes how much he wants to kill him. Ragna had never imagined something like this. Whenever he had pictured confronting Jin in his head, there was never any real violence; Ragna was always pissed as hell and unforgiving, but Jin was never anything but apologetic and regretful, not— not gleeful, not so eager to hurt him back. After all, it isn't as though Ragna hates his brother. He had been so sure that he could never hate Jin no matter what he'd done— but now, Ragna thinks he can imagine it very well. That surprise and horror slowly drain away in the favor of instinct and anger as he strikes harder against Jin's sword, slamming his fist into Jin's gut before he has the chance to pull away.

Jin grunts with pain at the end of his punch and pulls back, eyes glinting with sharp precision as he follows Ragna's every move but otherwise stays still. He lowers his weapon, and Ragna follows suit, huffing hard, mind hazy with confusion. Now that they've stopped fighting, Ragna doesn't know what to do— he knows what he _wants _to do just fine: turn and run and pretend this never fucking happened. Jin's face looks smug and amused when he says, "You're so good, Nii-san," like lovelorn praise and Ragna will never be able to get those mocking words out of his head.

"You, too, Jin." Jin was surprisingly apt in combat; while there were almost no holes in his offense, he had certainly lacked in defense, too caught up in trying to land a hit to properly protect himself. Ragna could certainly feel the sheer emotion in Jin's every movement, and can't help but wonder how much better Jin usually fights. Ragna lets out a breathy laugh, "Hell, I'm surprised you even know how to hold a sword, let alone use it." They aren't much more than stalling words, Ragna's mind racing, searching for the answer to what he should do. Running away was inconvenient, cowardly, and hell, he doubts Jin would let him go without another fight, but what else is there? Ragna hadn't planned for this, hadn't expected to ever deal with Jin before he was _ready_ (and despite all the times he had told himself that he was, he had been wrong).

"Nii-san is always so mean," Jin says with a grin. It quickly fades, his voice dropping low and soft with something that is not fondness, "You haven't changed a bit."

_And you've changed way too much_, Ragna doesn't say. He only grits his teeth and growls out, "Fuck off. I don't have time to deal with you right now."

Now that changes Jin's demeanor so entirely, so quickly that Ragna almost draws back. Every hint of affection on Jin's face vanishes, rage filling his visage as he barks out, "Then make time!" A sharp intake of breath paired with a glower, and then, softer, "I'm not going anywhere, Nii-san."

In a way, that is what Ragna fears, but he doesn't show it, only glares back. Jin is unrelenting and arrogant—so unlike his boyhood self in that respect. Ragna tightens his grip on his sword. "You want me to beat the hell out of you then? You deserve it."

"You deserve worse," Jin replies simply. Then suddenly, Jin looks up at him with some sort of mad glee, eyes so wide in mock-innocence, and that only serves to ping against his memories one by one, reminding Ragna just how different things have become. He leans forward so closely that Ragna's eyes can't help but drop to Jin's mouth, catching sight of the slow path Jin's tongue makes against his bottom lip. The second his eyes flick back up to Jin's face, Jin is almost in his arms, kissing him hard.

Half of him is stuck stock-still, the other half screaming that kissing Jin is the exact opposite of what Ragna wants to do to him— he wants to beat him or hell, even kill him— but that outrage is swallowed effortlessly by Jin's mouth. All that is left is that leftover frustration and anger, energy that is siphoned into senseless action; instead of hurting Jin, punching him or cutting him open, it spurs him into the stupid thing, kissing back, pressing his tongue into Jin's mouth as though he could beat Jin at this.

Jin does not waste a moment or hesitate, and in this manner he is at odds with Ragna's memory yet again. He kisses hot and cold at once, with such calculated zeal that Ragna can only reel further into it, tossing away his sword to reach for the nape of Jin's neck. Ragna's biting more than kissing, crushing their lips together until Jin gets the upper hand again, rubbing his tongue against Ragna's teeth and further still. Fuck, Jin is much better at this game than him— where Jin has skill and practice (and that fact vaguely, fundamentally, annoys him), Ragna only has sheer force and the need to _win_, and as such, can only suck at Jin's mouth harder. In one simple movement, Jin move forward, presses his body against him; even though they had touched the same way just minutes ago, the feeling is completely different. Ragna's hand wanders, finally reaching out to press against Jin's slender waist, and his mind does the same. God, Jin's lips aren't anything like he would have thought, they're are rough and firm, certainly adult and male— nothing like the plump, yielding mouths of the few girls he'd dallied with in his youth, or the baby brother who had always shamelessly stole feather-light kisses from him on the edge of sleep.

Jin tilts his head to lock their lips more completely, stroking at Ragna's tongue with his own; that surge of action encourages Ragna to respond in kind, almost forgetting that he can breathe out of his nose in his frenzy, too busy taking in shallow puffs between kisses and Jin's very breath. There's a moan in his throat that Ragna doesn't know what to do with, it just sit there awkwardly as Jin's tongue flicks out again to trace the back of his teeth. It caresses his sharpened canines so thoroughly that Ragna can taste the hint of copper in his mouth well before Jin's tongue curls around his own, fully giving him the sweet, bitter taste of freshly drawn blood. That taste makes him shiver, makes that moan rise to the surface before Ragna can stop it. He grips hard at Jin's hair and wrenches their mouths apart— but not before Jin bites hard at Ragna's bottom lip, tearing the skin.

Ragna's eyes fly open at the brief stinging sensation, leaving him momentarily perplexed because he never remembers closing them in the first place, and then stunned because, fuck, Jin is gorgeous.

That hand in Jin's hair drops, brushing tender, careful touches down his shoulders and back, eventually slipping to his chest in pure idle curiosity. All that fervent, aggressive lust is replaced with a glossy wonder. How, when did this happen? When did the bothersome little boy with such timidness grow up into this shamelessly beautiful man, staring him straight in the eye? With the Jin he remembers, there had always been hesitation, always been, "If it's okay," and "please," lingering after every request. Before him, however, is a Jin that doesn't care if it's okay, doesn't plead with him, only acts so damn self-assured, like Ragna didn't have a chance in hell of saying no to _this_.

Against the suggestions of that rational, mouse-quiet part of his mind, Ragna lets Jin's fingers guide him to the clasps of his uniform, lets Jin usher him into pulling off his clothes until Jin is only left in that slick, black bodysuit that leaves nothing to the imagination. It's like Jin had blossomed into some godly, bewitching figure. Ragna shouldn't have let himself be riled, shouldn't have responded to Jin's kiss, because it feels like all of Jin's passion has filled him up like sweet poison. Jin is so insistent, urging him to touch, to caress every crevice of his body before even peeking at the flesh beneath his suit, and Ragna obeys without a word, his breath shaky as he presses against Jin's stomach.

Jin's skin feels so hot even through the fabric. He trails his fingertips against the muscles of Jin's firm chest, and then Jin looks up at him through his lashes, daring him not to be so coy. Some of that leftover indignation flares, and Ragna rises to Jin's wordless provocation, so very carefully cupping the bulge at Jin's groin. Ragna thinks Jin makes a small noise— a pleased gasp, perhaps, but he's far too focused on Jin's face to be sure, watching the way his lips part and his eyes lose focus as be shifts his body to press upwards into Ragna's palm. Ragna swallows hard, dropping his eyes and moving his hand to the length of Jin's thigh instead, acutely aware of how hard he is in his own pants.

Jin does not say anything, just lets a sound halfway between a huff and chuckle out, and then he's reaching out for Ragna's chest. Those long fingers trail down his torso, driving Ragna's thoughtless anticipation even higher. Jin systematically unhooks each of Ragna's belts with one hand and lets them clatter to the floor, deftly easing open the clasps of his coat and, before Ragna knows it, is pressing those cool hands against the skin of his stomach. He can't help the ripple of anxiety (or is it anticipation?) that travels down his spine and right into his gut. Jin follows it southward, palming at Ragna's erection through his hakama, and Ragna is so startled by how good it feels that he doesn't even think to stifle his moan until after it's left his mouth.

This isn't right. That voice sounds so much louder than before, and yes, Ragna knows that Jin is his brother, but just cannot wrap his mind around _how_. As if to derail Ragna's growing reluctance, Jin's hand moves, trying to rub against him; one of Ragna's immediately shoots out for Jin's wrist to hold him still, to prevent him from touching him further, not until Ragna can _think_. Jin only looks up at him, not with confusion, but amusement, a smirk playing on his lips. That does something to Ragna's head. It's been so long since he's even touched himself like this, and fuck, it feels wonderful when Jin does it instead. His grip on Jin's hand slowly loosens as his other hand seeks out the clips on Jin's side, unfastening them with clumsy fingers. Swallowing down another lump in his throat (and all those quieting thoughts in his head, once and for all), Ragna reaches out, dragging the sides of the fabric apart, revealing the hot skin of Jin's hip and—

_Oh._

A single long mark just above the hip bone.

Just like that, past and present come crashing together and all Ragna can think is _Oh shit, this is Jin,_ as though he had been holding out, and part of him that had deeply wanted to believe that the man before him was not his brother, but some sinister doppelganger. All that doubt evaporates before the sight; that scar is proof. The time that had stopped all those years ago finally resumes, and when Jin groans, "Nii-san," with a huff of impatience, it doesn't sound ill-fitting at all.

Ragna presses his fingers against the dark line, remembers so very vividly how Jin had gotten it. Jin must have been no more than ten years old when he had fallen from the large oak tree behind the church. Ragna can recall the dread and fear that overtook him in a flash, the second the branch Jin had stepped onto snapped under his weight, and his little brother had tumbled to the earth below. The branch had narrowly missed stabbing him through the stomach on the way down, instead leaving Jin's side with a nasty cut that Ragna could only be grateful for. Jin had never been allowed to climb after that, not that Jin seemed to mind— after the fall, he had become wary of heights. While Ragna hadn't wanted Jin to be so affected by the accident, it kept him safe and on the ground, and Ragna had told himself that there would be time to cure him of that trauma later, never knowing that those days would not last forever.

Above that familiar scar is another mark, one he draws a blank on. He can spot others, at least three wounds that Ragna hadn't been there to bandage, to press his lips against at Jin's pleading. That simple knowledge makes him feel impotent, useless, and he is flooded with the desire to know, to demand exactly how Jin got each of the scars Ragna has missed out on.

"Nii-san," Jin says again, his voice a low growl. This time when Ragna looks down at him, all those things that seemed completely alien to him are suddenly recognizable and nostalgic. What Ragna had mistaken as purely confidence is the same unabashed expression Jin wore whenever he got exactly what he wanted; his body, the natural progression of the Jin in his memories into adulthood (and how Ragna wishes he could have been there to see it). Even now, Jin's displeasure is completely childish, so reminiscent of that tiny, spoiled boy who had cried whenever Ragna told him no. This... this is his _brother_— the brother who he was in the process of stripping down to the skin, who he had kissed hard enough to know just how talented his tongue was, whose hand was rubbing against the length of his cock— hard, because of him.

There's a shining beam of clarity that comes upon those realization, one that says, _What the hell are you _doing? and Ragna has to draw back in a flash from Jin's body, his skin and fingertips.

Jin's face darkens once he realizes what is happening. "You can't quit now, Nii-san," he says, reaching out for him, but Ragna takes another step back to dodge that seeking touch. "Nii-san," Jin snaps, anger deepening his voice and hardening his eyes. "You're just going to leave me again?" That hurts to hear, like it's somehow Ragna's fault that everything happened the way it did and he never got to watch Jin grow up.

"Shut up," Ragna says, stepping back further, quickly snatching his sword off the ground where he had dropped it. Ragna steels himself, reminds himself not to listen to what else Jin has to say, not when Ragna is still stumbling from Jin's thrall. How the hell could he trust himself when had been so close to throwing away everything between them for a momentary pleasure, just because Jin said it was okay? Jin is every bit what he had left behind (what had left him behind, he corrects, and somehow that sounds even more wrong)— foolish and selfish and completely ignorant because it had always been, and still is, Ragna's job to guide him, to lead him.

If there is one thing Ragna is now certain of, it is that he will not lead him into this, no matter how much Jin begged him or cried about it.

But Jin doesn't do either of those things just yet, only looks at him with something so close to hatred that it rattles Ragna to the core. "You're always doing things for your own satisfaction, Nii-san... never thinking about anyone else." Ragna shouldn't let those words get to him. Jin doesn't know the truth, how many hours a day he had toiled just to buy his siblings what they asked for, how much it hurt whenever Jin cried or complained. Ragna had done his best. It wasn't enough.

Ragna swallows, clutching the hilt of his sword tighter. He doesn't realize how fast his heart is racing in his chest, and how ragged his breath is until he tries to speak. "You don't know anything," he says, and Ragna knows that it's his own fault. He had tried his best to shield Jin and Saya from the world, always intending for them to learn under his watchful eye, when he felt they were ready— and maybe that's where the resentment had started, when Jin had to learn all the things Ragna had meant to teach him, alone.

But fuck, as much as Ragna wants to apologize to him for that, there's so much Jin needs to apologize for first, so much that Ragna will never forgive him for doing. He takes another step away, not surprised when Jin steps forward to follow him, crowing, "This time, I won't let you be so selfish." Ragna wants to say that Jin is the selfish one, that Jin had always placed his needs over Ragna's and that Ragna is getting the hell out of here whether or not he allowed it. He grits his teeth instead, and says nothing. "I'll rip you apart, Nii-san! You'll be all mine," Jin insists as he steps forward, slowly, without his sword. Ragna knows those things will happen soon enough, but he can't afford for them to happen here.

Jin steps so close to him that Ragna worries he'll try to kiss him again, but instead he just lays his hand flat on Ragna's cheek. Ragna pushes back that anxiousness and forces out, "If you think that I'll become yours so easily, you're fucking fooling yourself." Jin seems startled that he has anything to say at all, so sure that Ragna would fold under his whims, but Ragna does not have any such intentions. Instead he steps forward into Jin's body, flipping his sword to ram the hilt of his sword hard into Jin's gut. The adrenaline coursing through his vein doesn't have a problem with another fight, but Ragna himself isn't ready; his own reminiscing had reopened those old wounds, letting Jin's bitter words hit right where they stung the most. He does not need to hear anything beyond the sound of Jin's shocked gasp of pain to know that he can't afford to spend another moment here, that he has to get out, now.

Ragna does not spare even one look to Jin's form— he's flat out running, fast and hard. Ragna does not hear Jin behind him, not following or yelling after him, but Ragna keeps moving, has to get rid of all that energy at his fingertips, the frustration and other rattling emotions flowing through his veins (and that horrible lust, want still heavy in his gut).

His body is shaking, chest heaving painfully by the time he stops, although it is less a conscious decision and more the limits of his body that bring his dash to an end. His sword digs into the muddy ground to help Ragna keep steady. For a moment, there is clarity, there is nothing. No Jin, no stupid thoughts in his head, only the sound of his harsh breathing and the forest around him. That peace is quickly lost once he realizes the extent of his dishevelment, his shirt still wide open, hakama half undone. Ragna hurriedly buttons it back up, fastens together the halves of his coat and tries not to think about his belts, still left where Jin had dropped them on the floor. He sucks in a shaking breath, licks his lips and tastes blood— a wound from the fight, his mind automatically fills in. Ragna raises his hand to press against it, and that's when memory comes in, reminds Ragna that rather than Jin's fists or sword, this cut was caused by his kiss.

Ragna swallows hard, wiping the blood away, all those unwanted images and thoughts swelling in his head, the feeling of Jin's warmth, his tongue, his fingers pressing at his gut, teasing him. "Fuck!" Ragna swears, cursing himself for wanting to get off on his own little brother's vestigial need for him. There's nothing more abhorrent than that, knowing that if Jin had gone a little faster, been a little more insistent and rushed him, Ragna might have forgotten all about family and the promises he made to himself. If he hadn't noticed that scar, Ragna might have peeled that skintight suit right off Jin's pretty body, and fucked him hard into the wooden floor.

That sends a quaver through his gut— not of arousal, but of disgust, anger. Good. He thinks about it again, Jin writhing in his lap, breathing, "Nii-san," into his lips, and all he can imagine is his little brother sitting on his knee, disgruntled and just as pretty as he begs for something he know he can't have.

Ragna had always been able to say no to that frowning, suppliant face, and he will say no to this.


	18. Scrap

The girl is beautiful. More than that, she's heartfelt, dutiful, and kind. Everything that Jin deserved to have. That's exactly the reason Ragna has to come to grips with himself, has to look at his face in the mirror and growl, "What the hell is _wrong with you_?"

The girl, no, the woman, Tsubaki Yayoi, is what Jin needs. She brings him stability and the willingness to change, to care about a person deeply and soulfully. Properly. The way that Jin used to be able to, before everything fell to pieces. It's a tiny, sharp pricking in his chest, to accept that he cannot fix everything, and that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to change Jin the way she could. The way she already has.

Around her, he's different. Ragna almost doesn't believe it at first, hadn't thought that Jin could ever be compassionate again until he sees it with his own eyes. Hell, Jin looks like a damn hero when Ragna finally finds him, the same ones that Jin had always admired as a kid, majestic and solemn with a girl fit to be a princess carried in his arms. His eyes are wrought in cold fury as he walks past his older brother without a single word or glance in his direction. Ragna can't believe how strange it feels not to be the utter center of Jin's attention, to realize there are some things that Jin cares about more than his brother.

"Tsubaki..." Jin whispers, carefully setting down her limp body on floor, "I'll be back soon." It's in a tone of voice that Ragna has never heard before. It's as though he's intruding on some incredibly private moment, standing there like an unwanted bystander. Jin doesn't even _acknowledge him_ until he's through pressing his hand tenderly against Tsubaki's face, like she's the most precious thing in the world (and god, there's that brief clench of something hot and unexpectedly painful— Ragna used to be that thing).

Oh, but Ragna is practical and straight-forward. He's most certainly relieved that Jin isn't broken. There is definitely joy now that Jin had finally obtained something he found worth protecting. He can't be anything pleased that there is someone that could make him into a decent human being (so why is all he can think, _Why couldn't it be me?_).

It finally seems like they're brothers again when Jin comes to him after everything is over, those once clouded green eyes as sharp and clear as Ragna remembers from their childhood days. They have so many important things to talk about, destiny and what it means, what there is left between then, Saya, but ridiculously enough, the first thing that makes it out of Ragna's own mouth is, "What's the deal with you and that girl?"

Before he has the chance to back-peddle, Jin's gaze softens, and Ragna is completely blown away by his wistful expression. There's that unfamiliar, fond tone of voice again, soft as Jin says, "I want to keep her safe." Then, to Ragna's surprise, he starts to laugh. It isn't the half-crazed cackle he's become accustomed to, just a sad, bitter laugh as Jin gazes into the distance. Those eyes never used to turn from him. "It's stupid, isn't it?" he sighs, "Someone like me wanting that..."

"It's not stupid," Ragna forces out behind a puff of breath. He feels _proud_ in this moment. Proud and pleased and not at all upset, not at all betrayed just because Jin had found someone better than his older brother to love. Someone that loves him. How can Ragna be anything other than happy for him? Quite easily, and infuriatingly so. Before this moment, Ragna hasn't ever considered himself so self-invested that he would seriously consider destroying an innocent girl's happiness (and his own little brother's, too, even if he doesn't want to admit it) in favor of his own contentment. Ragna supposes he's simply been blind to it all along. There's a sinking feeling in his gut, like he's doing something horribly wrong and irreversible when all he's saying is, "You better take care of her, then."

His teeth are grinding together behind a fake smile once he sees how _relieved_ Jin is at his words, as if it's some sort of blessing, and his brother's word is all he needs. Ragna feels like a liar. "I will," Jin says. After a long moment, Jin's hand suddenly presses against his brother's. Ragna accepts it hesitantly, and Jin seems so young and old at the same time as he looks up at him. "I hope that you find someone, too, Nii-san. That you want to protect."

(But Ragna does have someone, and if he reaches out, says, "I never lost them," and brings Jin into his arms, maybe he will never leave again.)

Ragna tears that forbidden musing from his head with all the mental force he can muster. "I doubt it," Ragna grumbles, and Jin gives him an amused little smile. God, Jin is so damn grown up now, resembling a real man, not the selfish kid or crazy bastard Ragna knows the most. Given the opportunity, Ragna would have bet on Jin never becoming any semblance of normal, but here he is— worrying over whether he is good enough to protect another (the woman he loves), even trying to _console him_. What gets him the most is how Tsubaki doesn't even seem impressed or surprised at the change. After all, this is the person Jin always showed to her, the man that Jin had become in front of her eyes (or for them?). It had been Ragna that made him crumble again, but now that Jin is stronger than before, unwilling to even bend under the weight of his older brother's gaze.

Of course he feels happy for him. For them both. Still, there's a fraction of him that wants so badly to feel superior. _He _is the one who knew what Jin was first, who knows what he is deep inside. Jin would never whine to or hide behind someone other than him, and Ragna's seen all those parts of Jin that he would never, ever dare to show to anyone else. Despite himself, something smug and satisfied settles in Ragna's chest at those greedy thoughts.

It's a stupid feeling that Ragna crushes with sheer rationality. Jin is his little brother, has always been nothing more than that. Even if Jin's affection had come drenched in jealousy, in insanity, it had never been anything greater than what any timid child needing to be coddled would feel for their indulging older brother.

When he sees them together, Ragna thinks he finally knows what it would have been like to watch Jin grow up beside him: a mix of conflicting emotions that he can't control, quietly urging him to cling tightly and ruin everything instead of just letting Jin go. Things have changed since those days, more than Ragna can bear to think about, but when he sees the look on Jin's face as his sits beside his savior, holding her hand tenderly and pressing a kiss to her fingers, it's impossible to pretend that the final outcome is a bad one.


	19. sublimation

Since the day Saya shoves that sword into his arms and begs him, "Don't tell Nii-sama," Jin can feel himself slowly changing.

He can't put his finger on it at first. Jin isn't sure how it began, but he does know that everything is suddenly wrong. It's summer— Jin can remember its bright blue sky and sunny warmth without a problem, which makes the disconnect between what was and what is so disjointing. The sky is such a blinding white that he can't see the sun, and a chilled breeze blows through him no matter how far away he is from the shade. There had been something strange and disturbing about the present Saya had given to him, something different inside him now that makes Jin want to confess his sickness. Oh, but his voice and breath freeze in his throat every time he almost works up the nerve to do it. He had promised (or had Saya made him promise?) not to say a thing, so when Ragna says, "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" all Jin can do is nod dumbly and wonder why he can't see it.

Jin buries the sword in the brush by the big oak tree that was always too tall and wide for his liking. Ragna used to lie under the shade of it, idly watching as his younger siblings played in the field, back before Saya was too weak to do more than sit on the porch. Jin's the only one who comes here now.

Ragna is at Saya's bedside again, instead of in their room. Of course Jin despairs at the simple thought of Ragna forgetting him, choosing Saya over him, but the nightmares that Ragna can't save him from are the worst. He wakes up in the middle of the night from another terrible dream, scared and looking in vain for his brother to comfort him. By now, Jin's used to the frustration, the jealousy, and those hopeless tears that wet his pillow, but he still wishes with all his might that Ragna can somehow feel his terror. That they're connected somehow. But Ragna never notices, never comes to find him until morning, completely oblivious to yesterday's plight. Jin's eyes burn with restrained disappointment, the same way they always do, but also with the beginnings of fury.

The sword is calling to him. Jin's shocked at how he knows that, but he just does. It's not long before he's in the tall grass, pushing his fingers into the soft soil until his secret is finally out in the open. Jin finally looks at it for the first time since he buried it, admiring the smooth edges, and suddenly feels guilty about putting such a beautiful thing into the dirt. Carefully, like he's doing something he knows Nii-san would scold him for, he tries the handle. It doesn't open.

"Where have you been going so much, lately?" Ragna asks him one day, and it startles Jin so badly that he's caught frozen as a million different excuses, each more incredulous than the last, pass through his head.

Jin swallows hard, averting his eyes, and says, "One of the girls from school likes to pick flowers." There were always small groups of kids from the village who liked play in the fields, though Jin would never dare approach them if they were around. He doesn't know why he'd make up such an excuse— Ragna knows that as well as he does, because he knows Jin better than anyone. Jin braces himself for admonishment, sure that Ragna would see right through him in a second, but what he gets is a pat on the head.

"That's just fine," Ragna says gently, like he's fond of the idea that his little brother is finally growing up. "It's good that you found someone to play with, but let me know when you leave the house." Something tightens in Jin's chest. Didn't Ragna know that was impossible, that Jin was so timid and anxious that just making it through a day of school was a painful journey? Didn't he know that Jin was _lying_? There's a torrent of emotions surging through him at the sight of Ragna's unsuspecting smile— and shame is the least powerful one.

The sky is steely gray, and the wind is as cold as in the middle of winter, even though it's still July. Jin wonders whether or not his brother would believe him if he told him. Would he just peg it as Jin desperately wanting his attention, taking his truth as falsehoods and vice versa? The thought alone convinces Jin to keep quiet even more than Saya's promise. Jin wonders what kind of person Ragna imagines him to be, and squeezes his secret tight to his chest. It feels like it's the only thing he has anymore, and Saya is the one who gave it to him.

It's nothing more than curiosity that urges him to pick up the forgotten bottle of prescription pills he finds in the boy's bathroom. He thinks about bringing it to the office, but instead he looks at the label for a long moment, trying his best to sound out the name of something too hard for him to read in his head. After another short moment, he pours a few pills into his hand. They're long and white, reminding Jin of the vitamins he'd bought for Saya when she had first started getting sick. It feels like almost an eternity ago when he had given the bottle to Ragna and told him to give them to Saya every morning, that the supplement would help her get better faster. They hadn't worked, but Ragna dutifully doled them out, even replacing the old bottle when it'd run out. Jin quietly stuffs the bottle into his backpack, and runs, guilty, to his classroom. It isn't until the school bell rings at the end of the day that Jin's worry begins to fade.

The sword feels like ice in his hands when he retrieves it, and the difference shocks him so much that he almost drops it. Now when he lifts it, it feels balanced, completely different than the day he first received it. Jin wonders if he's just gotten used to the way it feels in his hands— after a few minutes, its frigidity doesn't even burn his fingers.

Maybe he'll get used to this, too. The dull surprise when he wakes up to Ragna sleeping in his own bed for once, the agitation of being ignored in favor of someone who's so much weaker than himself. Jin doesn't know what compels him when he takes those strange pills from school and files the top until the short code disappears, nor the reason why he waits until Saya is sleeping and Ragna is taking a quiet bath to remove six of the multivitamins and trade them with the pills he'd found. His heart is pounding when he goes back to bed, instantly regretting his previous action, ready to confess at the sight of anyone to do it toward. His head is flooded with a million possibilities and horrifying results— what if Saya _dies _because of him? Saya is so small. What if the medicine was meant for someone three times her size, what if it wasn't ever meant to be taken with the cocktail of drugs she takes every night? (Then it'd be good, wouldn't it? Jin wants to hurt her, even though it isn't her fault).

He knows that Ragna would stay by her side even more if he made her sicker, but there's a part of him that doesn't care, that thinks making Saya suffer is just getting even for all the days she stole Ragna from him. He loathes that scary part of himself in this moment, sobbing into his fingers at his cruelty when Ragna walks into the room. Suddenly, there is the concern that Jin has been missing, the sweet comfort he'd always been longing for when he cried, the brother to wipe away his tears and ask him, "What's wrong?"

Nothing now, that needy part of Jin sighs, but the sane part screams in confession— he did something stupid to hurt his sister, but he can fix it and he's sorry and just don't hate him! The Jin that answers, however, is completely different from both. Perfectly measured little sobs, the slow raising of his eyes to lock with Ragna's, making sure all of his attention is on him alone. "I had a nightmare, Nii-san. Can you sleep with me tonight?" Ragna, nothing more than the careless, unassuming older brother that can't even see the thing that Jin is becoming, smiles at him. He lifts Jin up with surprising ease and carries him to his larger bed, pressing a light kiss to his face. It feels like a mockery of the days when that action alone would be enough to satisfy Jin. Ragna's body warmth used to be so comforting to him, but now it's blistering, choking, and all Jin can think about is how wonderful it would be to have the ice-cold press of that sword against him instead.

When the morning comes, Jin doesn't say anything about the pills. His vindictive self tells him that Ragna would never dream of blaming him for it if something goes wrong, and that even in the worse case scenario, Jin would just have Ragna all to himself. The sword's frigid metal feels almost refreshing in his fingertips today, strangely heavy. This time when Jin tugs the handle, desperate to take a peek, it pulls open so easily that last month's effort must have been a dream. Inside the scabbard is the most beautiful weapon that Jin's ever seen. It's nothing like how Jin would have imagined it, not made from metal, he realizes with one touch against its frozen blade, but _ice_.

Jin can't hold the gasp in his throat, audibly coos in delight as he presses it against his palm. What a wonder it would be to use such a thing. Curiously, gently, Jin slides the edge against his palm, the razor-sharp ice not letting him notice the pain until his blood starts to flow from the cut. When Jin squeezes his blood from the cut onto the sword— _his sword_— there's a slight a wisp of steam, and then the blood freezes against it. Oddly enough, Jin thinks it looks even more beautiful that way.

Jin lies again, easily, when Ragna asks about the cut on his palm. He'd been climbing the old oak when he'd slipped, he says, and a sharp piece of bark had done it. Ragna frowns at him without a word, for so long that Jin's heart flutters in his chest, wondering if Ragna finally noticed— but then his brother's eyes turn away and says, dismissively, to be more careful next time.

The sky outside is so black and tumultuous that Jin wonders how he can see anything at all, but the the way back to his sword is engraved in his body. He could get there blindfolded. It glows like a beacon in the dark, commanding his attention, but all he can do is think about his brother. Jin shuts his eyes tight, trying to force himself to consider anything else, but nothing takes his mind off the what he was desperate to say aloud. Why doesn't Ragna truly know him anymore? Is paying attention to Jin that much of a bother? Or has Jin changed too much, too quickly? Had Ragna never expected that his little brother could be so vile and secretive, lie to him about things that are so important, do things so awful? It's all Jin's fault for becoming this, isn't it?

_No_. It's resounding voice that doesn't sound like his own. It's not his fault. Jin loved his brother deeply, too deeply, so much that it turned his world black and cold whenever Ragna didn't acknowledge him and his smiles were only surface deep. After all, who was he without his brother?

He was plenty of things. He was smart and fast-thinking, even if he was too shy to raise his hand or turn in his test before anyone else. He had good ideas and plenty of things to say, even if he didn't have the confidence to put action behind them, to leave his brother behind and stand on his own two legs so he could find his place. But how could he leave when just the thought made his heart contract with fear?

_Give it to me,_ something says, and Jin somehow, ridiculously enough, thinks the voice is coming from his sword. _It only causes you pain, _she coos_, so I'll take it for you. _Jin doesn't know what to say to that at first, but inside, he's sold. He thinks that a world without pain, without this crushing feeling in his chest would be paradise.

And just like that, color returns his world. Jin gasps aloud, unable to hold back his surprise. Oh, he'd never noticed how green the grass was, how warm the rays of the sun, even filtered through the oaks leaves, felt on his back! The sky is beautiful blue, such a far cry from stormy darkness of the past few months. The words don't come to him for a long moment, until he tightens his fingers about the blade. "Thank you."

Amazingly enough, confidence seems to come just as easily as the light does. He's filed down the rest of the pills now, and hardly feels an ounce of pity as he stalks into Saya's room. It doesn't take long to switch out more of the vitamins, switching out almost half and shaking the new mixture around vigorously. Just as he sets it down on her dresser, Saya calls his name, her eyes so sad. Even so small and weak, she knows exactly what he's doing. "Do you hate me?" she asks quietly.

Of course he does. Saya was right where he wanted to be, and even though she was so helpless, Jin couldn't bear to do anything besides this to her. But he wouldn't do it just because of jealousy toward her. Jin tells her that much. After all, his feelings about her were nothing when compared to what he felt toward his older brother.

For the longest time, love and hate were at war in Jin's heart, but ever since Saya had brought him that lovely blade, he'd started to hate him more. Or was it that the love he'd had evaporated before he could stop it, eaten away by something until all that remained was dark, vehement hatred? Jin closes his eyes and thinks of the gentle kiss to his forehead his brother had given him, then, conversely, the look that would be on his face if Saya really did die because of him.

He feels nothing but cold satisfaction.


End file.
